Namesake
by CaptainBluntschli
Summary: Jayne put extreme sentimental value on his favorite gun, but revisiting the past reveals there is more to Vera than just a name.
1. Chapter 1

_Namesake_

**1**

"You know, you really should have a spotter."

Turning his head stiffly towards the voice, a drop of sweat slid across Jayne's brow and nearly into his eye. With a final thrust, he swiftly heaved the barbell away from his chest, the weights clanking together as the bar touched down gently onto the stand.

Mal's footsteps chimed against the metal grating in a quick paced pattern down the incline of stairs into the cargo bay. His lips were taut and his eyes focused sharply like a hound narrowing in on his prey.

Bringing himself upright, Jayne straddled the weight bench. "A man can't get no privacy 'round here."

The ship's captain casually approached with shrug of his shoulders, his sing-song voice hardening with each word. "You'll have all the privacy you want while we're doing the drop off on Three Hills. Though it'd be mighty helpful if you came along and, I don't know, did your job."

"Sorry Mal, not settin' a foot on that rock," Jayne declared bluntly, taking a swig of water from his canteen.

Mal threw his hands in the air. "To hell with what Kaylee said, I knew being nice wouldn't work."

"You were being nice?"

Raising his chin, Mal curtly peered down at his insubordinate employee. "The pay off is substantial. But I understand if you don't want a full cut."

The words stung the mercenary worse than a taser to the groin, the very thought churning Jayne's stomach and sending a white-hot panic through his chest.

"That ain't fair, Mal," he grimaced.

"What ain't fair is that I got to put up with your whingin' when we have a job to do and that's more aggravation than I can bear at the moment. So the way I see it, if you don't work, what's the point of keepin' you around? Maybe Three Hills is your last stop."

"Fine," Jayne growled through his teeth. "What is it?"

"We possibly got ourselves a big run out of Cogburn if we play our cards right. And if I recall correctly, you spent some time there, know the place real well."

Jayne stood to heighten his eye-line, but the Oh-So-Brave-and-Oh-So-Bold-Captain Reynolds wasn't a man to be intimidated.

"I got a history there, yeah, but I ain't been back in years and didn't leave on the best of terms," he said, dropping his shoulders. "Believe me, there are no right cards when you're dealin' with Big Bing. He holds 'em all and only makes you think you're in the game."

"Lucky for us we're not dealing with Bing," Mal smirked.

"Everyone deals with Bing.

"Bing's dead."

"_Jien Ta Duh Guay! _When? Wait...that don't matter...How?" Jayne excitedly exclaimed, turning his rough-and-tumble facade to child-like glee. "Don't spare me the gory details, Mal, I can take it."

Curling his upper lip, Mal took a few uneasy steps back. "I don't know..."

"Tell me he fell in a crag and buzzards ate his entrails like spaghetti!"

"...What?"

"Or better yet, he was finally run through by that swollen-balled bull at that gorram ranch of his?"

With a petulant shake of his head, Mal paced restlessly, Jayne's eyes following his every movement. "He was an old man up to his elbows in dirty distributions. He went one way or another. What do you care?"

"I care 'cos he had a price on my head," Jayne seethed, stomping his foot.

"Who doesn't?"

"This was different," grumbled Jayne, unable to convey the gravity of the situation. "Suffices t' say, it was real personal."

"They always are," Mal scoffed. "I was hoping you could help us navigate through the terrain, but you better sit this one out if it makes you uncomfortable. There's nothin' wrong with being afraid of a dead man's bounty."

"I ain't afraid! He sent six men after me and I gave 'em what for," the large man declared, puffing out his chest. "So if Bing's dead, who's doing the business?"

"The old coot's son, Mikas."

"And he wants to meet down in Caput Ravine?"

"Sounds like you know our man."

"We ran in the same circle. Wait-you didn't tell him I was workin' for you, did ya?"

Mal put his hand to his head, the frustration pressing firmly against his temple. An emotionally charged and erratic Jayne was more than he could handle. "It's starting to sound like your involvement is going to complicate matters."

"Listen, I got no qualms with Mikas. Just... he ain't gonna wanna see me."

"Maybe it's best if you stay behind."

Jayne furrowed his brow. "Them gullies down there are mazes and if you're going in Caput Ravine for an exchange, there's a chance you ain't comin' out. They got this sayin', _Men go kaput down in Caput_. And not to be sentimental and all, but if you don't come back, it means I don't get paid."

"You sayin' I'm walking into an ambush?"

"It's possible. Mikas ain't bad folk, just cautious."

"Can we trust him?"

Jayne hesitated to answer, biting his cheek. "Yeah, he'll follow through."

"You don't sound so sure."

Apprehension smeared across Jayne's face, his jaw slacking open and empty with a lack of words.

"I want you on recon," Mal commanded, folding his hands behind his back. "Me and Zoe will be making the trade. I need to know the ins and outs of that ravine, alcoves that could be laced with trouble, ditches, traps, smuggling tunnels, and shallow spots where Wash can fly over for rescue if need be. Then once we're in, you're to fall back and snuff out any watch dogs that are likely to get trigger happy if the deal goes south."

Jayne nodded, struggling to contain the enthusiasm for a little action.

Mal remained expressionless. "And I shouldn't have to say this, but be discreet. We're just playin' it safe, not riding in guns a'blazing."

"I'm with you on that one, Mal. I just want t' get in and out," Jayne assured him as a lazy smile twisted through his mouth. "But a shoot and scoot in Caput Ravine? Don't that sound fun?"

**oOo**

_Three Hills. How long's it been?_

Jayne lay in his bunk, riddled with thoughts. The more he tried to shut them out, the more vivid his memories became.

_Nearly fifteen years ago. Or ten. Seventeen, maybe?_

He attempted to do the math, but the numbers quickly escaped him despite the forceful prod of his index finger in the air. She was around sixteen and he was...older…

_Twenty, twenty-one, twenty-three…Gorram! Old enough to know better._

Rolling over, he tugged the blanket off of the wall, his eyes scanning the arsenal of weapons concealed at his bedside. He took a strange comfort in the cold artillery. They were more than just firearms, but the best of friends, each with their own story and a sweet lullaby they'd sing with each round fired.

But in that moment, his attention went straight to the largest gun on the wall. His favorite.

_Vera…._

He remembered how she would purse her lips together into a plush pink knot and how her left eye would start to drift when she was thinking too hard about something. She was skinny, hardly nothing to her at all (though she was scrappy enough to hold her own and still the best marksman he'd ever seen), and he wondered if she ever filled out and got herself a womanly shape. He squinted in brief contemplation before deciding that if she didn't, that was okay.

There were girls before her and plenty of trollops after, but he'd never forget the runs in her nylons and the way she wore her mother's old flower print dresses, cinched at the waist with a thick leather holster to keep her favorite revolver at her side. _"Momma's long dead and her clothes are too pretty to let the moths eat 'em,"_ she'd say and then she'd wipe the dust off her hands right down the front of her breezy little skirt.

_Vera…._

Chuckling to himself, he let his eye-lids flutter shut as he reached for the light, Vera moseying about his head, overturning river rocks and shooting down mountain quail.


	2. Chapter 2

**2**

"That's a whole lot of explosives for such a little town," Kaylee remarked, unveiling the hidden chamber in the cargo bay's wall.

"Doubt they're keepin' it," replied Mal, peering inside at three cases made of thick molded plastic and metal. "A little help here?"

Simon scrambled to the captain's side, hesitantly reaching out to grasp the first box's handle. "Did she say explosives?"

"We pull on three," Mal instructed, dismissing Simon's concerns. "One...two...three!"

The men tugged with all their might, Simon's feet slipping beneath him as he struggled to drag the box from its secret compartment. Despite their efforts, it merely shuffled over the threshold, grinding roughly along the floor, each bump and scrape causing Simon's eye to twitch nervously.

"_Shen sheng de gao wan!_" Mal exclaimed, flinging his hands loose of the box in frustration.

Simon nearly tumbled to ground, his stumble met with a bellowing laughter that echoed from above.

"Careful there, Doc. Them lead lined cases are heavier than they look," Jayne chuckled, hovering from the gantry.

Simon's mouth twisted scornfully. "By all means, just watch. I can't see any reason why you would be useful in this instance."

"Me neither," he replied, resting his forearms casually on the rail.

"Jayne, I don't pay you to stand around 'n look pretty," groaned Mal.

"You should, seein' that I'm so good at it," he quipped as his heavy boots clanged down the staircase. "But lucky for you, I look just as pretty doin' stuff too."

Shoving Simon aside, Jayne took grip of the box and heaved it out into the open. Mal picked up the other end with both hands and the pair waddled the burdensome case into the center of the cargo bay.

"So if they ain't keepin' it, then what are they buyin' it for?" asked Kaylee, affectionately brushing some dust off of Simon's shoulder.

"The folk runnin' Cogburn ain't nothing but 'middle-men'," answered Mal with a slight grunt as he and Jayne set down the case. "They buy the goods, hike up the price, and find a buyer dumb or desperate enough to pay it. And believe me, there are plenty in the 'Verse that are desperate, dumb, or both."

"So why you so keen to do business with 'em?"

"That town - it's become somewhat of trading hub for those of us tryin' to make an honest living," Mal shrugged. "Okay, a dishonest living."

"I was under the impression that Cogburn was primarily a ranching community," interjected Simon. "Isn't the main export alpaca fiber?"

"Llama wool?" Kaylee snickered.

Simon nodded. "Yes. Wool and yarn for high-end sweaters and textiles. You see it advertised all the time on the Central Planets."

"It's what we, out here on the Rim, call a front," Jayne scoffed, pulling another case from the wall.

Preparing to lift another heavy load, Mal ran his thumbs along his bracers, circling the box. "Furry donkeys aside, they've got caverns down there tucked away in the mountains, real hard to find unless you got precise coordinates. And the peaks are so tall they run interference with Alliance tracking devices. So that means if you got somethin' you need to stash away from prying eyes, there's a vault with your name on it."

"But they don't just let any _sha gua_ waltz in there, no matter how much coin you got," Jayne added. "You got to get in good, prove you're trustworthy enough to do business with. They don't take kind to double-crossin'."

"Clydesdale knows all about that," a soft voice giggled.

Jayne flung his head into air, spotting River slinking around the corner. Her lips curled into a jeering smirk.

"Get out of my gorram head, Girly!" he shouted ferociously, dropping his side of the box with a loud thump.

"River!" Simon chased after her, noticing the murderous glint in the mercenary's eye.

Kaylee's attention shifted towards Jayne with great curiosity. "Clydesdale?"

"Hey Jayne," Mal pried, scratching his head. "What exactly did you do there on Three Hills?"

"Not what you think, Mal."

**oOo**

_"Clydesdale...there's a wave for ya."_

_A slovenly man slithered into the crew quarters, slapping his new recruit on the back of the head. Grimacing, Jayne craned his nose over his shoulder, looking down at the stub of captain, finding his superior combing crumbs from his beard with his sausage-like fingers._

_"Who is it?"_

_"Am I your secretary?" the captain asked, flicking a piece of debris off of his chin and rocketing it through the air._

_Jayne watched the bit of food catapult towards him, landing firmly on his arm. Growling under his breath, he cooly brushed it off of his skin._

_"No…Sir..."_

_"Then how the hell should I know?" the captain chortled. "Take it up in the galley. And be quick with it. Ares ain't far and the cargo lift ain't gonna prep itself."_

_With a subservient nod, Jayne turned, making sure he was a reasonable distance away before mimicking the captain's orders under his breath. He wound through the ship, quietly slipping past the dining room so as not to make his presence known to the men shoveling chow into their faces. The crew on the _Proust_ weren't the welcoming sort and so Jayne kept to himself, begrudgingly doing menial tasks just to have food to eat and a place to lay his head at night._

_Pulling a chair up to the cortex terminal, he cautiously scanned his surroundings to make sure he was alone and flipped on the A-V transmission. A young man faced the screen, gritting his jaw anxiously._

_"Mikas?" Jayne gaped. "Ain't you a sight for sore eyes!"_

_The young man faked a smile. "How're you holdin' up?"_

_"Best I can in this dump."_

_"Don't reckon Smithie lets you carry a piece, does he?" Mikas asked, raising a brow._

_Jayne rolled his eyes. "Fat bastard don't think I'm worth it. I'm the best shot on this flyin' dumpster, yet I gotta sit on my thumbs while the rest of 'em can hardly cock their own hardware, never-mind a firearm."_

_Briefly looking away from the camera, Mikas lowered his voice."Do yourself a favor and get your hands on something."_

_"Why?"_

_"The short of it is...Bing ain't happy."_

_"That ain't my problem no more."_

_"It is when you dock in Ares."_

_Leaning towards the screen, Jayne struggled to remain quiet."What's that suppose 't mean?"_

_"The order is to take you out. Given the circumstances, don't expect it to be clean and quick."_

_"Gorramit!" Jayne howled grittily from his throat. "I did exactly what he said! Haven't been back. Made no contact. Been at least six months since I left that ruttin' moon of yours."_

_"Things are more complicated than we thought."_

_"Who's he sendin' to do me in?"_

_"Tucker, Braise, Benjien, Cal, Ames, and Coop."_

_"Coop too? _He chu-sheng za-jiao de zang-huo_!" he exclaimed, bringing his hand to his head. "Why are you tellin' me all this?"_

_Silence paralyzed Mikas, his answer struggling to surface. "You were always good to her. That's gotta count for something."_

_Jayne swallowed hard."How is she?"_

_"Can't say. I never seen that girl cry before, but she won't stop blubberin' since I told 'er…"_

_"What? Told her what?"_

_"You were dead."_

_Taken aback, Jayne pounded on his chest."Dead? Do I look dead to you?"_

_"You're about to be."_

_"Like hell I am!"_

_"Don't matter," said Mikas as he flippantly leaned back in his seat. "You're dead to her, you're dead to me, and if you ever come sniffin' around again, I'll kill you myself. You have my word on that."_


	3. Chapter 3

**3**

_The large duffle bag hoisted over Jayne's shoulder contained everything he owned. He pulled the strap firmly to adjust it, marching towards the dusty little mountain town, his expectations stowed along with everything else in that bag. Working for passage on whatever ship could get him further out, he had no plan other than that he knew there was money out there and they were giving it away. He just needed to find it._

_Three Hills seemed promising. A bookie on Aberdeen swore on his odds that a for few weeks of labor, Big Bingley Ward would toss a good factotum a bone, using his pull to set a man up with a crew passing through. And so Jayne caught a boat on its way to Beylix to try his luck on the little moon, knowing little else of what he was getting himself into. _

_His legs ached from the uphill trek, but as Jayne approached the town border, he passed a stout man leaning against a split-log fence, polishing a toggle-locked pistol - a beauty of a long-barreled Luger that gleamed in the sun._

_"What pray tell do you think you're doin'?" the man asked gruffly, lifting his eyes from his task and motioning towards the outsider's overstuffed bag. "There ain't no lodging, so you best be heading back from where you came."_

_"I was told there was work 'round these parts."_

_"You were told wrong, Boy," the man jeered, stepping so close that the stench of stale chewing tobacco tainted Jayne's nostrils._

_The man was a head shorter than Jayne, but what he lacked in height, he made up for in grit. His nose was nothing more than mangled mass of cartilage stuck flat against his face and his menacing eyes hung low beneath lazy, purple lids._

_Puffing out his chest, Jayne tried his best not to seem shaken. "I'm lookin' for a Mr. Bingley Ward. Don't reckon you're him…."_

_"Nah," the man said, pointing the gun out to examine its iron sights. "But anyone who wants to get to Big Bing gotta go through me."_

_"Then I guess you'd be the one takin' me t' him," Jayne replied._

_The man raised his eye, dragging it slowly upward from Jayne's boots to the cocksure grin on his face. He held the pistol in his hand, balancing its weight on his palm, and then tucked it securely into his holster. "Then I guess I am."_

_Beckoning him to follow, the man didn't say much as they walked along the fence, leaving Jayne to admire the hazy mountain range in the distance. The terraforming took well enough to the heavily cratered moon and from what he heard during in his travels, the small river that trickled through Cogburn gave the settlers more hope than most on the Rim. The thin air and craggy land deterred visitors from landing, but if one could endure the conditions, it didn't seem like such a bad place to dig in roots._

_As they came across a herd of grazing alpacas, Jayne couldn't help but laugh at the sight of the fluffy beasts. "What're them things?" he questioned, his curiosity getting the best of him as he set down his bag and wandered over towards a lone animal gnawing at the ground._

_The man made a low, grunting sigh. "Careful...they spit."_

_"Spit?"_

_Startled, the alpaca raised it's head and in a quick huff, a generous spray of spittle splattered in Jayne's face. A wheezing laughter erupted from the man as Jayne backed away in a cautious stumble, his head buried in the crook of his arm._

_"Gorramit! It stinks!" Jayne shouted in disgust, scrubbing his face on his sleeve._

_"Coop!" a raspy voice called out to them. "What you gone done drag home?"_

_"This fella said he's lookin' for work," the man answered, slapping Jayne hard on the back. "Got a real rapport with the livestock, I tell ya."_

_Jayne's eyes still twitched with the sting of alpaca saliva, but he pried them open enough to look upon a wiry old man with a face pocked in wrinkles and scars. He stood there crookedly in a chalky black suit, its elbows and knees patched with fabrics that didn't quite match the rest of the faded cloth, and folding his hands behind his back, he walked a circle around Jayne, sizing him up._

_"What's your name, Son?" Big Bing asked through his whiskey soaked voice._

_"Jayne Cobb, Sir," he answered, extending his hand for a hearty handshake._

_Nudging Coop with his elbow, Bing pointed at the newcomer. "See, that there is a Clydesdale."_

_"Come again?" Jayne muttered in confusion._

_"Dumb as a draught horse too, I can tell," Bing smiled kindly as though Jayne couldn't understand._

_"You ain't wrong, Boss," nodded Coop._

_Befuddled and somewhat offended, Jayne's face contorted as he wrapped his head around the blatant insults. His jaw sagged, unsure of how to respond, and so he just stood there breathing through his mouth, his eyes blinking absently._

_"We always got use for strong 'uns around here," said Bing, tapping the muscle on Jayne's arm with his boney finger. "C'mon then, let me show you the grounds."_

_Scooping his bag back up on his shoulder Jayne trailed after the squirrely old man, his head swimming from the interaction._

_"Typically, workin' days are four on, one off, but it ain't no cake walk," Bing began." Hours are long here - sun rises 'round five o'clock and sets a little past nine. As long as the sun's up, you're expected t' work, rain or shine. Wage starts 'round seven gold a day...ain't much but you get room and board and meals."_

_"Mighty generous if you ask me," chimed Coop from behind._

_Townsfolk bustled through the ranch, workers carried plush sacks over their backs, women wove wool into yarn at multi-spooled spinning wheels, and Jayne found himself looking out over a corral of strange long-necked sheep that bray and spit and kept the whole town running._

_A young man busily passed, carrying a long harness coiled around his wrist and large electric shears. Despite his hurried steps, Bing threw his arm around the fellow and pulled him close. "Clydesdale - this is my eldest, Mikas. You'll be workin' under him most days."_

_Mikas was lean and good-looking, had a strong pointed nose and nicely chiseled features - too pretty of a man to be Bing's son and too pretty taken seriously when it came to manual labor. But lucky for him, he was the boss' kin and he carried himself with a certain arrogance that would get him laid out and beaten anywhere else._

_"Clydesdale, aye?" Mikas snickered._

_"Jayne. My name is Jayne."_

_Mikas met the introduction with a lackadaisical smile, running his hand through his sandy hair. "So you prefer to be called Jayne?"_

_Coop bursted into a hissing laughter, soon joined by Bing's throaty crow._

_"It's my name, that's all," Jayne growled._

_Grinning through his tar stained teeth, Bing ignored the snarl on his new work-horse's face. "And over there is my daughter, my precious little jewel."_

_He waved to a girl perched quietly on a fence-post, her eyes wide and unmoving. She looked like a little cat, calmly surveying field mice and waiting for the right moment to pounce. Her golden locks whipped in the breeze and tucking her hair behind her ears, she hopped down to the ground, planting her feet together with a thud. Adjusting her dress, she sauntered over, her thick leather boots taking all the grace out of her step._

_"Vera, darlin'- go make up a new bed in the sleeping quarters."_

_She stared at Jayne through her big, bright eyes and curled her lip sourly. "You smell like cud."_

_And once again, the heckling laughter resumed._

**oOo**

Watching from afar, Jayne subdued his laughter with a quiet snort as Mal stumbled over a loose rock, the captain's confident stride interrupted by a mere bit of rubble. But as expected, Zoe was there to catch him before he crashed to the ground, lending her arm to right his rubbed-legged stance and setting him straight and solid once again.

Caput Ravine snaked through the mountain range, its narrow path too tight and rocky for the mule, and so Mal and Zoe went by foot, leaving the goods back on _Serenity_ with the best of hopes for the upcoming deal.

"Three Hills," Jayne groaned, eyeing the steep wall of the valley. "More like Three Ruttin'-Huge-Mountains."

He checked the sturdiness of a few stones jutting from slope, and then began to climb. Height was an advantage in this territory if one could stomach treading along a rocky ledge. Kicking out dust, he clawed and scrambled his way up, sending dirt and debris clacking down beneath him.

Carefully hiking along the lip, he wound around dried vines and upturned roots, lying low behind boulders as he kept a watchful eye for mountain rats packing heat. And then he spotted one.

Hanging on a rope over the edge, a climber held fast against the cliff, camouflaged in a waxed canvas field coat, a tin cloth cap, and a bandana concealing his face. With a sniper rifle slung over his back and a pair of binoculars pressed firmly into his eye sockets, he watched Mal and Mikas making their deal deep down in the ravine.

Jayne thought about cutting the rope - quick and easy - but the shooter was small and it was high time for a little action. In a single swift move, Jayne pulled up on the rope with one hand and horse-collared the shooter with the other, flinging him up onto the ridge in a thrashing motion. Flailing his arms, the shooter reached for his gun, but Jayne ripped it from the sling first and held his opponent firmly by the throat. The shooter kicked a hobnail boot straight into Jayne's gut, and with the wind knocked from him, Jayne dropped both the little man and the gun to the ground.

Crashing to his back and tangled in his rope, the shooter desperately grasped to unsheathe the knife on his belt, twisting around so violently that the bandana covering his face slid down past his chin. With a deep snarl, Jayne gained his composure and stood over the struggling body with his pistol in hand. Pointing the barrel at the shooter's head, he paused at the sight of familiar eyes looking up at him.

"Vera…?"

She stared blankly at his face as though he were ghost, her lip quivering and her breath shallow.

Suddenly, a bullet whizzed through the air, hitting Jayne in his shoulder. Blood trickled down his sleeve as he raised his gun, unsure of where to fire. Still on her back, Vera turned and grabbed her rifle, pointing it out over the ridge and pulling the trigger. Jayne watched as a second marksman fell down dead from across the ravine.

"You're all still usin' them barbed bullets…" he cringed, cradling his wound. "Glad to see nothin's changed."

Vera picked herself up and ripped the bandana from around her neck, tying it tightly around Jayne's arm to stop the bleeding. He grabbed her wrist, startling her into submission, and she met his pensive gaze with her big, wet eyes. With a shuddering exhale, she pressed her lips firmly against his and he soaked in her taste - like sassafras and honey-butter - just how he remembered it from all those years past. And as their mouths parted, a blissful smile crept onto Jayne's face as Vera wound up and sent her fist flying square into his jaw.


	4. Chapter 4

**4**

Two gunshots echoed through the ravine, sending a flock of birds fluttering into a ominous mass of black through the sky and over a wary business exchange. A restraining silence fell across perked ears and distrustful eyes, leaving the deal at a deadlock. Mal and Zoe exchanged glances, barely taking a breath as they quickly reached for their holsters. Mikas and his man did the same, drawing their weapons and stiffly aiming their guns into a stand-off.

"My men were instructed not to fire unless provoked," Mikas glared suspiciously.

Mal narrowed his eyes, his revolver unwavering at the end of his arm. "As were mine."

"Before we go ahead 'n kill each other, let's see what kind of molehill we're dyin' for," Mikas said, slowly reaching into his jacket for his transmitter. Holding the clunky black box in the palm of his hand, his eyes drifted up over the ridge. "What's going on out there?"

"See, it's nice to deal with reasonable folk," Mal smirked, craning his head towards Zoe.

She let out a sigh, keeping her focus on the inbred mountain-man with a double-barreled shotgun pointed at her chest. "Mmmhmm. Reasonable, all right."

After a long moment, a woman's voice hissed through the speaker. _"Sssssssst….Don't you worry your pretty little head. I've got the situation under control."_

With his pistol still rigid, Mikas raised the box to his mouth once again. "What's the twenty on Henry?"

_"Sssssssst….Henry's down."_

The man at Mikas' side made a toothless snarl as he cocked his gun. Zoe braced herself, looking to Mal for a signal, but he was fixed on Mikas and that transmitter. She knew him well enough to know what he was listening for. And she knew Jayne well enough to know he was involved.

"What the hell happened?" Mikas spat into the microphone, his composure dwindling.

_"Sssssssst….Seems that Captain Reynolds is just as paranoid as you,"_ the voice remarked. _"Sent a scout up here. Hostile fella, too."_

"Get him in your sights!"

_"Sssssssst….Got 'im right here. Say hello."_

"Why's he still breathin'?"

_"Sssssssst….Because I don't kill dead men."_

Mikas' face contorted, flush with anger. "Stop speakin' in riddles, Girl!"

_"Sssssssst….To hell with you, Mikas. I'm coming down."_

"No! You stay in position!" he commanded. "That's an order!"

To his surprise, the light female voice he expected was replaced by the impatient growl of a man. _"Sssssssst….You heard the lady- we're comin' down!"_

A grin crept up on Mal's face as Mikas wrestled his pistol back into his holster and threw his transmitter violently against the rocks. A wheezing chuckle erupted from the mountain-man, beads of spittle landing in his wiry beard. He winked at Zoe, lowering his weapon and she cautiously extended the same courtesy.

Leaning in towards Zoe, Mal tucked his gun away. "Guessin' 'discreet' ain't a word Jayne understands."

"I could have told you that, Sir."

Holding her rifle straight into Jayne's back, Vera prodded him forward, winding them through the narrow pass. He clutched his arm with a grimace, kicking aside rocks in his path. His face was sore where she clipped him and blood stained his sleeve, pooling in his hand. The hollow-point bullet was small, but its sharp edges tore into his flesh, relentlessly ripping the wound open, and the more pressure he put on it, the more the shards dug themselves in. Ignoring the pain, he forged on, struggling to keep up with Vera's quick pace. Her indifference was worse than the slivers of metal tearing him up and worse than the dull ache in his jaw - she never said a word to him, just pushed him along.

Emerging from a hidden gully, Vera marched her prisoner up to Mikas and paying no attention to the others, she shoved Jayne ahead. "I got a bone to pick with you!"

Jayne staggered a few steps, but planted his feet firmly and stood as straight as the throbbing would let him. Mikas looked the same as he remembered - a little rougher around the edges, but he retained the comely appearance that used to get him a plethora of women back when they knew each other.

"Jayne Cobb! I don't believe it!" Mikas howled with a smile. "What're you doing 'round these parts?"

"Bleedin'," Jayne replied, befuddled and unable to think beyond the biting sting in his shoulder.

"That ain't Clydesdale, is it?" the mountain-man bellowed. "_Wo bu shin wo dah yan jing! _Look at him there! Ain't a pup no more!"

"Berkes- you ain't changed a bit," Jayne said, forcing the corners of his mouth into smile. "I hate to cut the reunion short, but...Mal...I wouldn't mind a trip to the infirmary right about now."

Mal stepped to Jayne's side, giving him a body to lean on. "Yeah, I'm thinkin' we should get you back to Simon right quick."

"Vera, why you gone done shot Jaynie?" the mountain-man pouted, noting Jayne's arm saturated with blood.

Mal raised his brow and looked to Jayne. "Vera?"

All Jayne could do was attempt to shrug, the gesture falling short into a twitch.

"I didn't shoot 'im," Vera piped, throwing her rifle back in its sling. "Though I should've for roughin' me up and tryin' to kill me...and Henry...well...he..."

"You tellin' me he killed Henry?" Mikas asked skeptically.

"Well, what do you think?" she said, baring her teeth.

"Baby sister- seein' who you brought down here and knowin' who you are, I'm gonna have to say that you shot Henry."

Vera crossed her arms tightly across her chest. "I told you not to send him up there with me."

"I don't know what I'm supposed 't do with you," Mikas groaned. "Well, you can go on and tell his wife what you done."

"I will," she spat. "And I'm sure she'll be happy that he won't be beatin' on her no more."

Mikas pinched the bridge of his nose, squinting his face and blocking out the chaos while he thought. "Captain Reynolds, I apologize for the ruckus," he said, extending his hand to shake. "You got your deal."

"You're gorram right we got this deal. Let's go already!" Jayne barked.

Accepting the gesture, Mal furrowed his brow. "That's well and good, but the cargo is back on my boat, not to mention heavy, and my muscle here is out of commission…"

"Say no more, you can have one of mine help ya do the liftin'," Mikas insisted. "Hey Berkes, what's Victor up to?"

"Believe he's mending that old fence," the mountain-man replied.

Vera's glare could burn holes through hide. "You leave him out of this."

"Boy's gotta earn his keep," said Mikas, dismissing his sister and turning his attention back to Mal. "Captain, come with me into town - bring your First Mate if it eases you a bit. I might have another job for you if you're not sore 'bout dealin' with us again. Berkes will get your injured man back to your ship 'n give your pilot coordinates to where my cargo can be dropped."

"Berkes?" Jayne objected. "Why not her? Vera and me got some catchin' up to do."

"Fine. She's likely to shoot me too if I keep her around any longer tonight," Mikas growled. "Berkes...go on and get Henry's body out of that ditch."

**oOo**

_Bing's cellar was crammed with carboys, crates, and barrels of liquor and despite it being dark and dank, no one objected to sneaking down there to hit the bottles hard. Mikas could easily get ahold of any key on the ranch and Jayne learned quickly that being in good with the boss' son had its advantages. He and Coop and a couple of stablehands would work a long day and Mikas took it upon himself to keep their spirits high, meeting them in the middle of the night under the skinnybone tree. With a rusty old trouble light and a skeleton key, he'd usher them down the craggy stone steps and invite them to have their fill._

_Vera stuck to her brother's heels, following him around like a shadow, and no matter how he would brush her off, her determination to hang about grew stronger. Her presence became a fixture and it didn't bother them much as she hardly ever said a thing, but just laughed at their crude jokes and kept their tin cups overflowing._

_Jayne's first excursion to the cellar was his most memorable, though he never thought it would be. Curled up with a carafe of potato wine, he watched Vera sit atop a large oak barrel, swinging her bare feet into the air and sucking down brandy. Coop swaggered over with a bottle in each hand and slumped down next to him in drunken bliss. He, too, couldn't keep his eyes from Vera and licking his lips, he leaned close to Jayne._

_"She's a filly. A strong 'un that ain't been broken yet, but don't you get any ideas- her Daddy got plans for her- thinks she'll make a good companion out there on them civilized worlds. But any fool can see that throwing her in with those respectable types is like tryin' to pass an old boot for a shiny pair of alligator shoes. Still, for these parts..."_

_Jayne took a swig, dribbling a little on his chin and wiping it clean with the back of his hand. "I've had better."_


	5. Chapter 5

**5**

_Loading a target into the trap, Mikas pulled back and released another clay pigeon, flinging it far into the air. Jayne followed it through the shotgun's sights pulling the trigger once, then twice - BANG! BANG! - echoing through the hills. He snarled, dropping the gun down and watching the unharmed target crash on the ground. _

"_Load up another one," he grumbled, cocking the gun and aiming it fiercely at the open sky. "Pull!"_

_Another pigeon went flying -BANG! BANG! - only to land intact. _

"_You ever shot a gun before?" a sweet voice mocked him from behind. _

"'_Course I have," Jayne sneered, turning to glare daggers at Vera. _

"_Sure don't look that way," she laughed._

"_It's these gorram movin' targets!" _

_Mikas smirked as he watched Jayne's cheeks grow flush with anger, and turning to his sister, he tilted his head disapprovingly. "Don't you got your lessons, or are you just lookin' for Clydesdale t' shoot you?"_

_Vera rolled her eyes. "Miss Caroline and them books about manners ain't goin' no where. I just wanted t' come down to see who was wastin' so much ammo."_

"_Is there anything in them books about botherin' a man holdin' a gun?" Jayne sneered. _

"_I don't see a man holdin' a gun, just a little boy thinkin' that fine weapon is a toy," she said, raising her nose into the air. _

"_That's it!" Jayne roared, shoving the shotgun to her chest. "You run your mouth an awful lot. I'd like to see you give it a try."_

"_Fine. Why don't we put a wager on it?" she challenged him, throwing the gun over her shoulder. _

_The firearm dwarfed Vera's tiny body and Jayne couldn't help but laugh at the thought of the girl withstanding the gun's recoil. "My week's earnings say you can't hit a target on your first shot."_

"'_Fraid you're about to become a week's pay poorer, my friend," she said, nodding to her brother and raising the shotgun into position. "Pull!"_

_The pigeon whizzed through the sky and Jayne watched confidently as Vera tracked it and pulled the trigger. BANG! Bits of limestone crumbled in the air, leaving an empty ache in the pit of Jayne's stomach. _

"_Double or nothin'," he grunted. _

"_If you say so," she said smugly. "Pull!"_

_BANG! _

_To Jayne's dismay she hit the target again, her gloating smile digging unbearably into his pride. "A whole month's wages…"_

_Vera glanced at Mikas, who in turn, shrugged his shoulders. Squinting her eyes shut tight, she pointed the gun into the air. "Pull!"_

_BANG!_

_The pigeon hit the ground with a dull thud. Her eyes fluttered opened expecting to see Jayne flaunting his triumph, but to her surprise, he just stared at her crossly. "You won," she pouted playfully. _

_His surly expression remained unwavering. "You didn't even try."_

"_What about 'you won' don't you understand? Keep your money."_

"_I don't need your ruttin' pity, Girl!" he barked, making her jump in her skin. _

_She licked her lips, regaining her courage. "It's got nothin' to do with you. Just sometimes I like to lose."_

_Jayne furrowed his brow. "I don't get it. What's your angle?"_

_A strange calm fell over her as she let down her thorny shield and a warm, earnest grin grew on her face. "Well, if you never lose and never fall, you can never stand back up and win. Puts more at stake. Makes the next round more exciting, don'tcha think?" _

_Blinking a few times, Jayne worked the words through his head. "Guess you're right."_

"_I'm always right," she replied with her usual curtness, handing him back the gun. "But it's time for you to be standin' back up already, so come here and I'll show you how it's done."_

**oOo**

Three Hill's sun was just starting to set, sending a warm glow bouncing off of boulders and trickling through precarious tree leaves. Cogburn nestled itself comfortably in a valley with picturesque mountain ranges painting the sky, the scene turning dusty gold in the waning light of the day.

Mikas led Mal and Zoe through the town center where people tipped their hats as they passed before scurrying away in packs. Before long, the bustling streets were eerily empty, no trace of anyone to be seen in the last licks of sunlight.

"Something ain't right," Mal muttered as the filaments of a solitary lamppost flickered on.

"We've been havin' some security troubles as of late. Folk been findin' it in their best interest to stick together and be home by dark," Mikas explained, pulling a small flashlight from his waistcoat pocket. With three clicks, their path was lit bright enough to see several paces ahead.

Zoe's eyes shifted cautiously and she placed her hand near her holster, keeping close tabs on the man leading them through the dark. Mal's duster fluttered behind him as a gust of wind whistled through the young night.

"What's scaring 'em off?" Mal asked, his stride remaining confident.

"The men livin' up in the hills," Mikas answered. "When Bing died, I took over -he was my father, and that's what he'd been groomin' me to do -but some of 'em 'round here didn't like that, thought they were better suited to handle the business, formed a posse and took refuge in the mountains. They been comin' down here, terrorizin' the town, tryin' to send a message. And now they've started stealing the goods that come through here. That's where I got a job for you."

"You want us to take back what's yours."

"Exactly. What's troubling is that they just lifted a shipment of glycerol."

"An artificial sweetener?" Mal scoffed, exchanging glances with Zoe.

"Sounds dire," Zoe chimed.

Mikas let out an exasperated sigh. "It's a versatile product. Easy to sell and turn a profit. You can use it in sweeteners, preservatives, medicines, soaps, fuel...and if you got a good chemist, dynamite. You understand my predicament?"

"I do," Mal nodded. "But from what I've just seen, you've got a nice little outfit packing some artillery."

"Vera? She's mighty fine with a rifle, but it's not enough. The men we'd normally send up there to diffuse the situation are the very men causin' me this headache. Real dangerous, too. They were our hired guns - they know the land and have no restraint on killin' folks…'specially me and my sister and the like."

"So what makes you think I'll put my crew on the line?"

"This ain't no podunk operation we run here. I got the funds to pay you what it's worth," Mikas said, leading them up to an old barn. "But you take your time and think about it."

The barn's wood-splinted door creaked on its rusty hinges as he tugged on the handle, inviting them inside. Shelves of box steel beams lined the walls and large work benches held a smattering of tools, presses, grinders, and saws. A plastic orange curtain hung from the rafters and behind it a flickering blue light crackled and buzzed - stop and start - stop and start - as sparks and smoke rose into the air.

"Victor!" Mikas called over the noise, tapping on the curtain.

The light ceased and an arching silhouette raised his head, tugging the plastic aside. He was daunting at first sight - a towering presence wearing a large, boxy helmet that shielded his face - but a second glance revealed that he was lanky and thin with a cropped leather welding jacket making his shoulders only appear wide and imposing. Pulling off his soiled gloves and tucking them under his arm, he raised the visor. Underneath was a boy, no older than seventeen, his eyes bright and his cheeks stained with grease and slag.

Mikas craned his neck to investigate the metal structure clamped to the table."Still workin' on that gate?"

"Gotta keep the welds clean," the boy replied, pointing at the steel frame with pride.

"Captain Reynolds needs you to help unload some cargo," Mikas instructed him, turning to Mal to complete the introduction. "Victor don't look like much, but he slings enough steel to put most men t' shame."

Hanging his helmet atop the valve of a tall metal gas tank, an amiable smile smeared across Victor's face as he tried his best to wipe the grime from his hand on his thigh before eagerly meeting Mal and Zoe for handshakes.

"Strong grip," Mal commented with nod as Zoe let go of the boy's sooty palm and artfully brushed the filthy residue from her hand onto Mal's back.

Mikas playfully threw his arm over Victor's shoulder and mussed the mop of dark hair on the teenager's head. "When're you gonna fill out, Boy? I'm startin' to think your Momma ain't feedin' you enough."

"You can take that up with her - she says I'm eatin' us outta house 'n home," Victor chirped.

"That's what growin' boys do," said Mikas with a wink. "Now c'mon. We've kept the Captain waitin' long enough."

Victor nodded, running to the slop slink in the corner and dunking his hands in a trough of soapy water. He then quickly splashed a little up on his face and shook his head like a wet dog. "So where we headed?"


	6. Chapter 6

**6**

"When did you become such a gorram baby," Vera groaned, impatiently waiting for Jayne to catch up. "Your legs ain't broke, get a move on."

Jayne hustled forward, keeping pressure on his arm with his hand, the blood between his fingers becoming sticky against the moist material of his sleeve. "When did you become such a _jien ren?_ Don't know if you noticed, but I've lost a lot of blood here."

"No blood, no guts," she replied firmly as the soles of her boots scraped up a large rock in their path.

"Big talk from a little girl who was pissin' her pants up on that ridge."

She turned sharply, her nose wrinkled in anger. To his surprise, she extended her hand to help him over the obstacle, but as he hoisted himself up, she leaned in closely. "I already killed one _hun dan _today- go ahead, try your luck, I'll make it two."

Anyone else would have found the threat daunting, but Jayne licked his lips, hoping she'd try. Instead, she dropped his hand and forged on ahead, leaving him to watch the swing in her hips from behind.

"What were you doin' up there anyway?" he called after her. "I thought your Daddy had big plans for you- that's why he ran me out of town, ain't it?"

She laughed sarcastically. "You did all the runnin' on your own."

"When you wake up with a gun to your head and you're told to be gone by morning, you bet your sweet ass you're runnin'."

"And what about me?" she stopped, meeting his eyes with a grave intensity.

Locked in her gaze, Jayne fought to keep his vehement longing from bubbling through his cool facade. "You were better off without me," he growled, breaking eye contact.

"Yeah," she scowled. "It's startin' to look like I was."

**oOo**

_Serenity_ sat steadily in the belly of a dusty gorge and Jayne met the sight of the ship with a relieving sigh as he and Vera climbed over the last ridge and shuffled down into the valley. The cargo bay door unfolded, the buzz of hydraulics more welcoming than ever. Emerging from within, Kaylee eagerly waved at the approaching figures, but as they neared, a burning panic grew in her gut. Jayne appeared injured, he was with a gun-toting stranger, and Mal and Zoe were no where to be seen.

"Simon...we need you down here," she belted into the ship's intercom as she quickly ran to meet Jayne at the ramp. "What happened? Where's the Capt'n?"

"Nothin' but a little friendly fire," the mercenary assured her woozily, treading up into the ship. "Mal and Zoe are off finishin' the deal."

His nonchalance took her by surprise. A million questions raced through her head, but suddenly shrank into nothing as she felt the cold glare shooting from the woman at Jayne's side. Shaking off an uneasy chill, Kaylee's mouth sagged open, her tongue trying its best to flick words out. "And you are...?"

"In possession of coordinates to the drop off location for our cargo," Vera replied curtly, eyeing the metal cases piled on the floor.

In the confines of the ship, Vera's presence seemed larger and she held her head high with a solid-footed stance. Concern permeated through Kaylee's expression, but Jayne gave her a nod to vouch for the callous woman in the tin cloth cap.

"Um, okay, you'll want to give those to Wash, our pilot...he flies good ole _Serenity_ here...with, um, coordinates," Kaylee stuttered with a nervous smile.

Watching the two women, Jayne's mind drifted and a lazy grin twisted onto his face. It was no secret that Kaylee was sweet like marmalade and could make anyone feel right at home with just a smile, but whenever she neared, he'd make sure to take a good whiff of her scent (which consisted of motor oil, strawberries, and cinnamon) and he couldn't help but wonder what kind of intimate little things she wore underneath those baggy, grease-stained, coveralls.

And then there was Vera- wild and unpredictable - a fine, willowy creature that could never be tamed or domesticated (and would chew up and spit out dainty, pampered doctors that even bothered to bat a pretty eyelash her way), but she could be surprising soft if you knew how to butter her up, and she had a certain way with words that made him want to listen to everything she'd ever have to say.

The urgent click of nicely polished dress shoes up along the gantry interrupted Jayne's thoughts, rocketing the mercenary's mind back into the present and reminding him of the throbbing bullet hole in his shoulder. Simon swung around the corner and down the stairs, rolling his neatly pressed sleeves up his forearms. Behind him, River trailed cautiously, her ears perked and eyes wide as she watched her brother mentally prepare himself to work with a sharp stare and a clenched jaw.

"Go on 'n take your time, Doc," sneered Jayne. "I ain't bleedin' or nothin'."

"You've been shot again?" Simon groaned as he made a beeline for the infirmary. "Has it ever occurred to you to step out of the trajectory of flying bullets?"

"Stop flappin' your lip and just do your job," Jayne cringed, peeling off his jacket and dragging himself towards the doctor standing under the stark florescent light. Passing Kaylee, he arched his head in close, his whiskers brushing slightly against her cheek. "Do me a favor and don't let Vera there out of your sight. I ain't through with her yet."

Kaylee's doe eyes made the promise, but her insides quaked. She didn't like the idea of being left alone with that woman, nor did she like the harrowing weapon strapped to her back, or the dried blood staining her cuffs and caked under her fingernails. She was no stranger to intimidating men, cutthroat women, big guns, and bullet wounds, but there was something about Vera that set her on edge. Then again, she reminded herself, she had once felt the very same about Jayne.

"Why don't I take you up t' see Wash?" Kaylee turned to Vera with an affable smile.

"Got no more time to waste," she snapped brusquely as her fingers squirmed into her coat's breast pocket, pulling out a thin stick of charcoal and a crumpled piece of paper. Pressing the page's wrinkles out quickly along her thigh, she scribbled down some numbers, and then forcefully shoved the paper into Kaylee's palm. Without a second thought, the woman anxiously pivoted on her heel, marching stiffly towards the cargo door, and in the light of the setting sun, she ran her hands nimbly through her pockets to check for ammunition.

"But it's gettin' dark..." Kaylee called from behind.

"And you've all kept me long enough. I'll be lucky if I make it back in one piece."

"Why don't you ride with us? Can't imagine it'd take too long. And safer than walkin' back alone in the dark," Kaylee suggested, hoping Vera would take the bait. "I was just about t' put on some tea if you'd like some."

Pausing in contemplation, Vera pulled off her cap and wiped a sweaty grime from her face in the crook of her arm. Her eyes wandered through the glass of the infirmary window, spying Jayne gritting his teeth as Simon prodded at his wound with shiny, silver forceps.

"Fine," she said briskly over her shoulder, damning herself under her breath.

**oOo**

"_My Poppa would give me a good fifteen lashes if he even thought I was hangin' around them ruffians...your brother bein' the exception."_

"_They ain't so bad."_

"_And Miss Caroline said you keep missin' your lessons? That'd be a good fifteen more."_

"_What do you care, Marjory?"_

_Vera did her best not to slouch as a girl with corkscrew curls wrapped a measuring tape around her waist, cinching it snugly and counting the tick marks. She had known Marjory Jenkins for as long as she could remember, and even as small children, Marjory took it upon herself to scold Vera for her misdoings, whether it be sneaking outside during rainstorms to splash in puddles, or filling her brother's new wellies with mud, or convincing the other kids that alpaca spit would make them grow taller. _

"_It just makes me a little sad, that's all. You've got all this potential and it don't seem to matter t' you," Marjory said, scratching down the measurements on a little notepad and then tucking the pencil behind her ear. _

"_So what?" _

"_If I had a chance t' get outta here 'n make somethin' of myself, I wouldn't be wastin' the opportunity on some lowlife."_

_Vera rolled her eyes. "I don't know what you're talkin' about."_

"_Yeah you do," Marjory frowned. "It ain't the harmless little game you think it is."_

"_I swear, you're wound tighter than your curls," Vera scoffed, dismissing her friend's warning. _

_Draping the measuring tape across her shoulder, the girl grew gravely quiet. "I feel real sorry for you."_

"_I don't recall askin' for your opinion," Vera snapped. Shoving a dress form aside, she gathered her gun holster from a nearby table and hastily buckled it back around her hips as she stomped towards the door. "You don't know a ruttin' thing. Not a ruttin' thing!"_


	7. Chapter 7

**7**

_Jayne set down a large wooden crate in the center of the general store, pulling a pry bar from his belt and tiptoeing around the box as gracefully as he could so as not to knock into the tightly packed aisles filled with precociously stacked items. His first week on the job, he wasn't so careful and managed to hip-check a barrel of grains into a shelf, causing a domino effect of crashing bottles and cans, a great mess to clean up, and a serious dock in his pay. _

_Old-Man Avory watched from behind the counter, but his kind eyes never turned stern, even though he dubbed Jayne as a bull in a china shop. "How many crates came in?" he asked with a slight warble in his voice. _

"_There're two more on the porch, but I got my eye on 'em in case anyone thinks about gettin' grabby," Jayne said, slipping the pry bar under the crate's lid, the wood splintering under the pressure as the nails popped up one by one. _

"_I ain't worried 'bout anyone thievin'," the old man shook. "Petty criminals don't get far in a small town where everyone knows everybody's business." _

_With a little force, Jayne pulled the lid free and set it aside. "My Ma always said that waggin' tongues keep more folks in line than the law."_

"_Wise woman," Avory smiled, his glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose as he tried to peer into the open box. "Now, be careful stacking those paint cans. Them shelves ain't as sturdy as they used to be."_

_Jayne turned and set his hand gently atop of a metal frame shelf, pushing slightly and watching the whole thing shift and wobble. "I can fix these up for you. They just need some bracers in the back there and reinforcement in the joints. Think I saw some aluminum scrap in the shed. And you know, there's some old I-beams too, just gettin' in the way...I can see about whippin' them together into a real solid unit for ya."_

"_Well I'll be damned. No one told me that Clydesdale knew his way around an arc."_

_Lacing his thumbs in his belt loops, Jayne puffed out his chest with pride. "It's my father's trade, and his father before him. Back home they say MIG wire must run through our veins 'cos nobody welds like a Cobb." _

"_Mighty useful skill 'round these parts," Avory nodded, raising a boney finger in the air. "Them supports in the caverns always need repair."_

"_Caverns?"_

_The old man chewed on his tongue, knowing he'd said too much. Jayne looked at him expectantly, but the clerk was saved by the unrhythmic clang of the door's tin can chime. Vera plodded over the threshold, her cheeks red and brow furrowed, and jammed her way to the counter, past Jayne and the crate with little regard. _

"_Ah, Vera, sweetheart," Avory began, unable to sense the cloud of anger surrounding her. "Marjory was just in this mornin' askin' 'bout that fancy fabric for that fine dress she's makin' you. Should've gotten it in this afternoon - Clydesdale...see if there's a bolt of fabric in that crate there."_

_Shoving some straw aside, Jayne plucked a long brown paper parcel from the box, holding it with uncertainty. _

"_I don't give a damn about fabric," she growled, slamming a handful of coins on the counter. "I want fifty rounds of .44 Long Snout."_

"_I'm sorry darlin', but Coop just bought me all out. I got String Bean Jeans and Supers."_

"_They don't fit my 438," Vera grumbled, grabbing her holster with a violent shake. _

"_Come back tomorrow. I'll have a new shipment in then and…" the old man's voice shrank to a whisper as he peered over glasses with a thin-lipped grin. "...it'll give you some time to cool down." _

_With an aggravated groan, she snatched up her coins and whipped around so fast that it shook the old floorboards beneath her. As she slammed the screen door behind her, Jayne and the old man exchanged wide-eye glances. _

"_That there worries me…" the clerk muttered, his eyes fixed on the door. _

"_Yep…" Jayne nodded, biting his lip. "You mind if I duck out for a few, make sure she's not about t' beat someone to death with a rock?"_

"_By all means, go," he shooed the workhorse towards the door with his frail hands. "That girl's temper is a force t' be reckoned with."_

_It just took a quick sprint across the way for Jayne to catch up with Vera's heavy-footed pace. Her heated determination seemed to clear a path, townsfolk dodging out of her way left and right. Jayne trailed behind her for a few steps, gathering the gall to make his presence known. _

"_Who you gunnin' for?" he finally asked, hovering over her shoulder. _

"_No one."_

"_I'm not so sure I believe ya."_

"_Jayne!" she stomped. "I ain't some head-case, needin' to be followed 'round!"_

"_So where you off to in such a huff?"_

"_Lookin' for Coop."_

"_What'cha want with him?"_

"_Will you just shut your dumb trap?" she snapped. Catching her words, her eyes turned apologetic, but when she tried to will herself to speak kindly, her mouth went dry and instead she heaved an exasperated yelp, shaking her hands manically in the air. _

_Jayne raised his brow. "Is somethin' wrong with you?"_

_She squinted her eyes tight, sucking in a deep breath, and then scurried ahead towards Skinny Joe's Tavern. He followed her with persistence and didn't much appreciate the way she deliberately let the saloon doors swing back on their hinges to knock him in the chest. With plenty of daylight working hours left, the tavern was almost empty aside from Ugly Danny Tucker and One-Eyed Ames slouched over the bar. _

_Coop was set up in the corner at a long table, several guns, solvents, and cleaning patches laid out before him as he chewed on a stogie and ran a bore brush through the barrel of a small pistol. "Wha'do you want?" he grunted through his teeth, eyeing Vera and Jayne as they shuffled towards him. _

"_Fifty rounds of .44 LS. I know you bought Avory out," Vera demanded. _

"_For that little 438 Black Sparrow of yours?" Coop said, pointing at her holster. "What you want it for?"_

"Zao gao! _Why's it matter?"_

"_Cos I ain't givin' you squat 'less I know what you want it for."_

"_I just want to go out to the targets t' blow off some steam ."_

"_With a single-action revolver?"_

"_It's all Daddy lets me carry without Mikas around," she whined. "Now can I have the ammo or not?"_

"_Can't imagine you'll feel any better shootin' off one round at a time," Jayne piped in. _

"_What do you know?" Vera sneered towards him. _

"_He's right," Coop smirked. "That little Sparrow ain't gonna satisfy nothin'."_

"_Then give me one of yours!" she said, pointing at the array of weapons in front of them. _

_Coop erupted into cackling laugh, smoke from his cigar spouting from his mouth. "Which one tickles your fancy?"_

_With a serious scowl, her eye went to the largest gun on the table. "The Callahan."_

_Coop's laughter grew louder, shaking the table, and he gasped for breaths as he smothered his cigar on the bottom of his boot. Vera grit her teeth, unable to see the humor in the situation. Jayne puckered his face to keep himself from grinning as he examined the impressive firearm of Vera's affection. _

"_You gotta admit..." Jayne winked. "The girl's got taste."_

"_I'd say!" Coop hooted. "That thing's the finest weapon a man can own. Got a customized trigger, double cartridge..._Ai ya, _Princess! You wouldn't know what to do with it."_

_Vera narrowed her eyes. "The joke's gonna be on you, Coop. That gun will be mine."_

"_Yeah, over my dead body," he brushed her off, lighting up another cigar. "Gimme that Sparrow of yours."_

_Reluctantly, Vera unsheathed her revolver and placed it in Coop's palm. In a matter of minutes, he disassembled the little gun, removed the trigger, and put it all back together again. "C'mere," he called her near. "You don't go tellin' your Daddy I did this...all you gotta do now is fan back on the hammer real quick and it'll fire round after round after round."_

_With a vigorous nod, Vera took her gun back and aimed it at the back wall, practicing the new technique a few times and then stuffing it back in her holster. "And the Long Snouts?"_

_Reaching into a black duffle-bag at his feet, Coop pulled out a a box of ammunition and slid it across the table._

_Vera reached into her pocket, grasping onto the loose coins. "What do I owe you?"_

"_Don't worry 'bout it. I haven't laughed that hard in donkey years," he said, his lips curling into a smile as he began to snicker. "The Callahan…."_

**oOo**

Vera reclined in her chair, bringing a hot cup of green tea to her lips. Crossing her legs, she accidentally bumped the dining table with her foot, startling Kaylee straight up in her seat. There was a long, uncomfortable silence between the two women, and after a short, bumbling conversation about the tea, all Kaylee could think to do was smile awkwardly whenever Vera looked her way.

With a long-winded sigh, Vera reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a flask, unscrewing the lid and pouring a splash of amber liquid into her mug. Holding out the silver container with a shake, she wordlessly offered it to Kaylee.

"What the hell," Kaylee murmured, spiking her tea. With a slow sip, she grimaced, then ran her tongue along her teeth. "Woo, that's strong. Real good, but got a kick. And sweet. What is that?"

"Honey whiskey."

Pursing her lips, Kaylee brought the flask to her mouth and took a straight swig, shaking her head with a throaty "Ahhh." Vera smirked, taking back her flask and matching the mechanic's shot before screwing the lid on tight and tucking it back into her coat.

The silence resumed, but the liquor felt warm in Kaylee's belly and suddenly the stranger didn't seem so intimidating. Zoe was tougher for sure, bigger and stronger and more resolute. And there Kaylee was, puffing up her chest and casually crossing her arms, so as to appear just as tenacious and aloof.

Floating elegantly through the steel-framed doorway, Inara made her way to the kitchen, stumbling upon the unspoken, one-sided pissing contest, surprised to find an unfamiliar face sitting at the table. Vera looked up listlessly, taking note of the dignified woman's fine garments and poise, and rolling her eyes scornfully.

"Oh, thank god," Kaylee muttered under her breath as she rose from her chair. "Inara! Come meet Vera…."

Putting on a kind, practiced smile, Inara greeted the guest with a slight bow of her head, her perfect dark curls bouncing over her shoulders. "It's a pleasure."

"I'm sure it is," Vera grumbled sarcastically, raising her mug in the air.

"Inara is a registered companion," Kaylee chimed cheerfully, attempting to break the new layer of tension wafting through the room.

Vera brought her tea to her mouth, snickering into the cup.

Inara furrowed her brow. "I'm sorry, do you find that amusing?"

"No. Well, yes." Vera shrugged with a confessing exhale. "I almost went for training."

"Really?" gaped Kaylee, crouching back down in her seat.

"Mmmhmm. A scout from the guild even came to recruit me."

Quizzically inspecting the fierce woman's appearance, Inara placed her hands on her hips. "But you didn't go?"

"Ain't it obvious?"

Kaylee swelled with curiosity. "What happened?"

"Plans changed," Vera said frankly, taking a sip of tea.

Refusing to let the conversation dwindle into an uneasy nothing, Kaylee's voice jumped eagerly into the gap with another question. "So how do you know Jayne? I mean, you didn't just meet today..."

The stranger paused, weighing her words carefully. "Guess you can say we're old friends..."

Perhaps it was the whiskey, but a gust of courage barreled up through Kaylee's chest. "Do men often name their favorite guns after old friends?"

Vera's eyes grew wide with panic. "What?"

"I mean...c'mon….you and Jayne... right?"

Inara bit her lip, watching with subdued amusement as the sweet little mechanic's words stripped away Vera's tough facade and left her to claw defensively out of a corner.

"Don't see why that's any of your business," Vera barked defensively.

"Tell me, 'cos I've always wondered," Kaylee winked, continuing with the interrogation. "How do ya manage to build a meaningful relationship with Jayne?"

Vera narrowed her eyes and she straightened up in her seat, a vicious scowl consuming her. Her glare smacked the grin right off Inara's face and Kaylee gulped down the last of her bravery, as goosebumps ran along her arms. Leaning forward, Vera bared her teeth. "With a hammer, of course."

All three women bursted with laughter, their cackling sending vibrations through the walls of the ship. Kaylee gasped for air and wiped tears from her eyes, as Inara draped herself over a chair, unable to stay upright as she tried to catch her breath. Vera's smile was large and infectious, but she quickly tucked it away under her lips when she heard a pair of heavy boots thump into the room.

"What's so funny?" Jayne pouted as if he knew he was the butt of a joke.

"Just a little girl-talk," Inara insisted, regaining her composure.

"Yeah? I don't know if I like that," he grunted, watching their smiles fade.

Noticing his arm bandaged tightly up in a sling, Kaylee pointed towards the injury with concern. "How's your arm?"

"Fine. Just some tissue damage," he answered, with a slight shrug. "Had worse."

"You're welcome," Vera sighed bitterly into her tea.

Jayne swallowed nervously, feeling the feminine eyes of his crew-mates picking him apart as he took a few hesitant steps towards Vera. "Hey, I, uh...got somethin' I wanna show you."

"What is it?"

"You'll see," he said, urging her to get up. "Got it in my bunk."

"What is it?" she repeated, unmoving.

"Gorramit! Can't it just be a surprise?"

Her eyelashes fluttered, unfazed by his frustration. "No."

Stomping his foot like a child, he stared up at the ceiling, recalculating his plan. With a defeated breath, he curled his lip and sighed. "The Callahan."

Vera slammed down her mug on the table, the warm liquid within sloshing over the sides, and looked at him with exuberant disbelief. "_Shen sheng de gao wan! _No you don't!"

A sly smirk twisted over Jayne's face. "I knew it'd get ya all fired up."


	8. Chapter 8

**8**

_"The name of the game, my friends, is_ _Chuantao Stud," a slick, skinny fellow heartily announced as he shuffled through a worn deck of playing cards. _

_There was a simultaneous groan around the table. Coop knocked back another beer, scanning the group over the rim of his stein. One-eyed Ames rolled his good eye, leaving the glass one staring lazily out ahead, while Clydesdale looked up at Sly Cal as dumb as a draught horse (no surprise there), and Vera twisted her pretty little face in disgust, though it could've been attributed the stench of Grisly Berkes who was the loudest objector of the bunch since he was the only one to take his poker seriously. And then there was Mikas, who was far too busy ogling the trim over at the bar to care. _

"_What? Y'all said dealer chooses the game!" Sly Cal whined. _

"_But not some 9-card, zippity-doo, faces, aces, and spaces wild, hour-long hand!" yelled Berkes, nearly knocking over his tall stacks of coins. _

"_It ain't an hour long,"Cal insisted. "Half that at most."_

"_I never heard of it…" Jayne remarked with a twinge of curiosity. _

_Excitedly jumping on the opportunity to make his case, Cal mimed a hand frantically on the table in front of him. "It ain't hard. You're dealt three cards down, two up, sixth, seventh, eighth streets up, then a down-card on the ninth. Player with the low card on third street pays the bring-in, y'all bet clockwise from him, four rounds of betting with no limits between streets, suicide king's the highest card, one-eyed jacks and the man with the axe are wild, and spades beat out hearts, diamond, and clubs."_

"_...huh?"_

"_Now you gone done confused Clydesdale," howled Berkes. _

"_He ain't the only one," Ames added, scratching his head. _

"_I think you're makin' that all up," Mikas jeered with a wink to the busty barmaid bringing them a new round of drinks. _

"_I ain't! I swear!"_

"_Pick a new game," Coop growled, his ill-tempered tone silencing the pointless bickering around the table. _

"_Fine. Pineapple," wheezed Cal, knowing that crossing Coop would be the last thing he ever did. He flung the cards one by one across the table. "Three cards, Hold'em rules, discard one after the flop. "_

_Vera glanced at her hand, and then slid her eyes to her left, looking at Jayne with a playful glimmer. Mischievously draping over his arm, she peeled his cards from the table to have a quick peek. _

"_Hey," he grunted, plucking her fingers away. "You can get shot for that."_

_She pressed her lips into a coy smile. "You gonna shoot me?"_

"_I might."_

"_I'm folding anyway."_

"_Then what do ya make of it," he smirked, showing her his hand again. _

_Everyone else was too enthralled in the game to see it - repeatedly glancing at their cards, counting the odds of their hands, and checking, calling, raising their bets - but Coop spied over at the pair, noticing that Vera was nestled up a little too closely to Clydesdale, more so than a good girl ought to be. Catching a glimpse of his sneer, she suddenly slid straight in her chair, throwing her cards unturned towards the dealer. _

_Then the table grew quiet. _

"_Well, well, well. Just a friendly little poker game I see," Bing's gravelly voice rubbed their ears raw as he circled from behind."Berkes is up of course. Clydesdale ain't doing so bad for himself, either. And Vera…Vera you go on home right this instant."_

_Vera puckered her face and flipped her head around, confronting her father's stern glare."But Daddy, I ain't done nothin' wrong…"_

"_You speak right, Girl! I don't pay no tutor just so you can skip your lessons and go around talkin' like some dullard!" he hollered, grabbing her arm and jerking her away from the table."You ain't no man, no matter how tall you walk, and I'm frank sick of it. Your Momma would be rollin' in her grave if she knew how you've been behavin'."_

_The whole tavern seemed to go quiet and for a cluster of strapping men with hard hands, and deep scars, and cold steel at their hips, they all sat there frozen, nothing more than their eyes darting back and forth. All but Coop, who lit up a cigar with indifference and began shuffling a deck of cards, the rhythmic zip of the paper sending chills down their spines. _

"_And you," the boss turned to Mikas. "You're her big brother. Supposed to be takin' care of her...protectin' her...not encouraging her, lettin' her shoot skeet and play cards with the likes of these brutes. You're a man now, but that don't mean you're above gettin' a beating. You're lucky I don't take off my belt and whoop the both of ya right here!"_

"_Yes, Sir," Mikas gulped, sinking in his seat. _

_And they all watched in tense stillness as Bing dragged his daughter out through the swinging saloon doors, each of them hesitantly reaching for their cards as they tried not to think of the lashing Vera was about to get just for wanting to be in their company. _

**oOo**

"I don't believe it," Vera muttered, running her fingers slowly along the Callahan's stock. "I thought it was lost and gone forever."

Jayne pulled the gun from its mount on the wall, balancing it against his sling, yet still holding it steady with pride. "She's just been keepin' me company."

A mass of vague recollections flittered through Vera's mind and as she searched for a way to articulate the plethora of questions beating down on her brain, she grew light-headed, only managing to utter one word: "How?"

"Took it off of Coop's body," he answered with hardly a pause. "Figured I earned it."

"I thought Coop was killed by a marshal while he was out on a smuggling run…not long after you left, actually."

"Someone's been spinnin' you some tall tales."

"I guess so…" her thoughts trailed off pensively as she chewed on her bottom lip.

"Anyway, she's yours," he said earnestly, offering it to her.

Taking it carefully, she wrapped her hand around the grip, her fingers barely long enough to even reach the trigger. She remembered how hard Coop laughed at her, saying she couldn't handle a weapon of such caliber, and she hated to admit he was right. Savoring the adrenaline from just cradling it in her arms, she set the firearm back in its place on the wall with a solemn stare. "I couldn't. _You_ earned her."

Jayne reached out, hesitantly at first, and then ran his finger along the smooth slope of her jaw, raising her chin to look upon her face. "Hey now...don't you smile no more?"

"What's there to smile 'bout?"

Watching the soft movements of her lips, he felt his nerves tingling, his veins pulsing, his heart pounding deep within his chest, and as his breath grew shallow, he grew tired of playing all of the silly games strewn between them.

"I can give you a reason or two," he boldly advanced, catching her off-guard.

With a feeble attempt to push him away, she swallowed hard, making a final effort to resist. "I got someone in my life now."

"You're lyin'," he drew nearer. "You wouldn't have kissed me up there like that if ya did."

"He depends on me..."

Her words dwindled into his lips as he kissed her feverishly, slipping her dusty field coat off of her body and letting it hit the floor. His mouth arched into a wily smirk, surprised at the way her button-down shirt ran along voluptuous curves, trim to her waist, tucking neatly under her belt. She'd become all hourglass, stacked in all the right places, and he tugged her close, taking a hold of the shapely hips she never had before. She tried not to moan as he ran his cheek down her neck, pulling her collar aside and burying his face in her shoulder, gnawing lightly on her skin and relishing in the faint scent of honeysuckle and black powder.

"Seventeen years thinkin' you're dead. No letters. No waves…."

"Thought I was doin' right by ya," he said as he effortlessly hoisted her up onto his bed with his good arm.

"No you didn't," she whispered into his ear, her cheek nuzzling against his warm, coarse skin.

With hardly a grimace, he tore the sling from around his neck, freeing his other hand to grab and grope, as she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him tightly between her thighs. With quick, deft fingers she helped slip his sleeve over the freshly bandaged wound and he ripped his shirt up over his head, baring his strong chest, happy to show her that the years had been good to him too.


	9. Chapter 9

**9**

_Out in the corral, Jayne and Mikas cornered another alpaca, the herd scurrying around them as they honed in on a silver male, blocking the beast with quick paces and wide outstretched arms. Unfurling the lead rope coiled around his arm, Mikas hooked it to the alpaca's halter and with Jayne shepherding from behind, they hustled it into the barn. With a sturdy hold of its legs, the pair flipped the braying animal onto its side and strapped it down onto the shearing table._

_They had been shearing since dawn, shaving the soft, fluffy coats straight from the alpacas' backs and collecting the fiber in canvas bags to be weighed, washed, spun, and sold. It was a tedious task, meant for many more hands than just their four, but Bing insisted that the ranch was short of spare workers and they would have to juggle the chore all on their own. With a good fifty animals ready to be shorn, they looked to each other and both began to wonder if the job was no more than a punishment - Bing's own sadistic way of sticking it to them for allowing Vera to misbehave._

_Jayne wiped his sweaty brow with his forearm, bits of wool and dirt sticking to his skin. "Gorramit...this is a load of _gou shi_. Why ain't Coop out here helpin'? I never seen him do nothin' but clean those ruttin' guns of his."_

_"That's 'cos Coop's no work-horse. He's a dog," Mikas answered, picking up a pair of large electric sheers as Jayne leaned his arm firmly across the alpaca's long neck to keep it still._

_"A what?" Jayne called out over the loud buzz, watching as a blanket of fleece fell from the animal's side._

_"A merc - a hired gun. He don't work out on the ranch 'cos that ain't where his money comes from."_

_Jayne grew puzzled. "Then what's he hangin' around here for?"_

_"You ain't been out past the valley, have you?" Mikas asked, moving the razor down the alpaca's scrawny legs._

_"What's that got to do with anything?"_

_"You've never wondered 'bout all those ships that come and go? The strangers that flow through in the middle of the night?"_

_"So? What of it?"_

_"You really ain't that bright, are you?" Mikas scoffed, leaning in and hushing his voice. "Bing's real business is holdin' up in those caverns. Now, I'm only tellin' you all this 'cos you've been here long enough and you're real good about not askin' questions."_

_Jayne shrugged. "I don't care much for where the money comes from just as long as I get paid."_

_"Exactly what I like t' hear..." suddenly crowed Bing's voice._

_Jayne shuddered and his shoulders tensed. The spindly old man had a chilling way of sneaking up behind folk. He was like a living specter, shady and snide, only making his presence known at the most opportune moment, always with that gritty snarl he called a voice. It never failed to set Jayne on edge, sending a hungry paranoia worming its way through his every thought as he tried to recount incriminating things he could have said._

_Sauntering into the barn accompanied by a full entourage, Bing kept Coop right at his side like a good dog, with Sly Cal and Ugly Tucker trailing at their heels. From behind, Vera poked her head out with the vivacity of a caged animal stepping foot into a long forgotten wilderness. Jayne didn't think of it much, but she hadn't been around since that ill-fated poker game, and it surprised him how happy he was to see her - like a void had been filled and the world had been set right. The feeling bubbled in his chest, and displeased with the unfamiliar sensation, he tried to swallow it down and smother it with indifference._

_"Clydesdale- you're comin' with us today," Bing barked with a summoning jerk of his head. "Vera will take over for you here."_

_Jayne gave the boss an uneasy nod, but his mind was elsewhere, frozen in stunned silence._

_"And wipe that gobsmacked look off your face, Boy," Bing harped as he turned his back. "I need muscle of the intimidating persuasion and if ya can't manage that, then you're no use to me."_

_Quickly tightening up his jaw and squaring his shoulders, Jayne nodded with every effort to look as imposing as he could. Coop beckoned him to follow with nothing more than a grunt, and keeping in line with the gang as they shuffled out the barn doors, Jayne tipped his head apologetically towards Mikas. In turn, Mikas winked back, but then couldn't help but groan as he looked down at the squirming alpaca and then over at his scrawny sister._

_Watching Jayne with a crooked smirk, Vera touched him gently on the arm as they crossed paths, making him halt mid-step. And standing up on her tiptoes, she stretched her torso up as far as her bones would let her, just to whisper into his ear._

_"Welcome to the family."_

**oOo**

"If you don't mind me askin', what's the story with Jayne 'round these parts?"

Mal kept his pace steady, staring straight ahead as they wound through the mountain pass, his smug smile generating a disapproving glare from Zoe. It was a bold question to ask, but Jayne had already complicated things enough, and if he were to even consider putting his crew in the line of fire for a job (a job facing a slew of rogue mercenaries possibly in possession of homemade nitroglycerine, no less), he wanted the straight-up truth. There had been enough surprises for one day.

Mikas swallowed a groan, then turned to Victor. The boy didn't speak unless spoken to, but when he did, his sentences were flanked by bewildered smiles. While he managed to carry himself with a commanding sort of poise, the kid was young and green, and his genuine excitement made it obvious that Mikas didn't involve him on these types of runs often - and though he attempted masking it with a cool composure, Victor's enthusiasm bled through his anxious ticks like whey through cheesecloth.

"Victor…" Mikas called to the boy. "Go on up ahead and turn on the landing beacons."

Victor obeyed with a nod and setting his flashlight's stream into the bottleneck before them, he fearlessly ventured onward into the dark.

Once out of earshot, Mikas shook his head with a reflective sigh. "Talk about a mountain of a molehill. It was a while back - don't seem that long, but time's funny that way, innit? Truth be told, we were just boys pretending to be men."

He paused, listening carefully into the vast night, and with a heavy _click _and a few flickers, the clearing in the gorge was lined with small amber lights. With a satisfied smile, Mikas tucked away his flashlight and began again. "Some boundaries got crossed and my father didn't take it lightly. It all got out of hand. Seems silly after all these years, but you'll have t' ask Jayne for the details. Hell, he might even laugh now. Eh, probably not on account that Vera still won't see it as much of a joke."

Mal tightened his lips into a sour grin. "Y'see, wishy-washy answers to a simple question don't gain my confidence much."

"That weren't no simple question," Mikas laughed. "And certainly not one you should be askin' me."

A great light illuminated the grounds from above and the sky rumbled as Serenity hovered over them, preparing to dock. Wind gushed and dust rose into the air as the four figures stepped back a safe distance, watching and waiting to board.

Shielding his eyes with his forearm, Victor's hair whipped in the great surge of air, marveling in the ship's presence as it touched down in the clearing. "Is that a 03-K64?"

Mal peered over at the kid with a raised brow. "You know your boats. Ever been up in a Firefly before?"

"Never even seen one up close," the boy gaped. "But did once spend a week on an old Drift Master 314-ML, though you can hardly compare the two….'cept the older Series 1 Fireflys had basically the same hull design on account of MasterCorp's merger with Allied Spacecraft Co…."

"__Jahn!_ Y_ou _really_ know yours boats," Mal smirked. "But can't imagine why anyone would choose to step foot on a Drift Master, let alone spend a week."

Victor shrugged. "Well, wasn't really bein' picky at the time. I was six years old and got it in my head that I wanted t' take a ride. Stowed away in the belly when they were makin' a delivery and the crew didn't find me 'till we were half way to Newhall."

"I remember that," Mikas chimed. "Your Momma was worried sick."

Scratching his temple, Victor sighed bitterly. "I'll never forget it. It was fun while it lasted, but when they dropped me back off, Momma was so mad she made me go out in the valley and pick my own switch. Don't know if you ever had to do that, but it's right torture. You don't want one that's too light, cos those lashings will cut deep...and don't want one too heavy cos then you might as well hand her a mallet."

"Poor bugger couldn't sit for a week," Mikas chuckled, nudging Mal with his elbow. "I almost felt bad for him...but he never ran off like that ever again."

"Still think it was worth it," the adolescent lamented. "I never felt anything as thrillin' as when that boat broke atmo. Y'all do it every day, but the closest I get is climbin' them peaks...and can't even do that no more with the lot of them backsliders hidin' out in the hills."

"Some men aren't meant t' be tethered to the ground," said Mal with a twinge of pity. "I tell you what, after you load that cargo, I'll give you a tour."

Victor's eyes lit up as he struggled to contain his excitement. "Really?"

"Sure," Mal said, walking away towards the ship as the cargo doors opened. "Just as long as you promise you won't be stowin' away."

Victor nodded profusely, following Mal like an eager puppy and nearly stumbling in awe as he took his first step onto the ship. Mikas put his hand on the boy's back, ushering him inside, a slight grin sneaking onto his face as he watched the kid gleaming with wonderment.

Kaylee and Inara gathered together on the gantry, spying down on the new faces accompanying Mal and Zoe. They glanced at one another with raised brows as their attention was quickly drawn to the good-looking, sandy-haired man circling the neatly stacked cases piled on the cargo bay floor.

"See something of interest?" Shepherd Book startled them, approaching with a calm gait.

"Just glad t' see Zoe n' the Capt'n back safe n' sound," Kaylee insisted, bouncing nervously on her toes as she fiddled with the buttons on her coveralls.

Peering over the rail, the preacher let out a foreboding sigh. "Yes, it is a relief. Especially considering Mikas Ward is down there."

Shifting her eyes, Kaylee disguised her curiosity with a hesitant smile. "Oh, is that who that is?"

"He doesn't seem to have any malicious intent," Inara observed, watching Mikas count the goods and gesture towards the young crony by his side. "Do you know him?"

"Oh, no," claimed Book with a subtle shake of his head. "But he does have quite the reputation for being, shall we say, slippery. Although I'm sure the captain has taken the appropriate precautions."

With a solemn nod of understanding, the group went quiet as they watched Mal sprint up the stairs, his brow furrowed with determination. They knew him well enough to know something was on his mind - the stone face he wore to hide it was a dead giveaway. They also knew him well enough to know that whatever it was wasn't up for discussion. And so they just greeted him with a collective smile, pushing their concerns aside.

"Don't get your hopes up - this is just the drop off point. You can enjoy some of that fine mountain air once we dock near town." the captain said with authority. "Where's Jayne?"

"He's in his bunk showing Vera his big gun," Kaylee answered innocently, but as the others exchanged shrewd glances, she reassessed her statement and began to giggle uncontrollably.

Mal stared at the mechanic blankly. "Have you been drinking?"

"Course not, Capt'n," she hiccuped.

Rolling his eyes, Mal pursed his lips in a brief moment of contemplation.

Though the captain could be a hard man to read, Inara saw the apprehension in his eyes, and recognizing the subject of his internal debate, she gently spoke to sway him. "I think it can wait, Mal."

"Don't reckon I'd win that fight…" he mused.

"With Jayne? Right now? Absolutely not," Kaylee snickered. "B'sides, would you wanna walk in on that?"

Mal curled his lip in disgust.

Desperately trying to change the subject, Book stepped forward. "If I can be of some service moving the cargo, by all means, make use of me."

"Save your back, Shepherd," Mal said, turning on his heel and heading back down to the bay. "You see Jayne, you tell him I want a word."


	10. Chapter 10

**10**

Mal wasn't fond of young folk. He commanded a few back during the war - stupid kids with dreams of glory, hardly weened from their momma's teat, thinking they would single-handedly take down the Alliance. They never listened- thought they knew it all- thought they were invincible. It was no surprise that they were just lining up to die. Too quickly they learned that war wasn't about being a hero...it was about staying alive. There was something in their eyes that changed upon the realization - like a bright bulb flickered, dimmed, and eventually smoldered - and it happened to all of them. Hell, maybe it even happened to him.

Hard memories balled up in the back of his throat, but it took nothing more than a quick cough to dislodge and swallow them down. That was then and this was now. There was work to be done.

Victor helped Mal hoist the heavy cases up onto the mule, and as scrawny as the kid seemed, he slung the cargo without the slightest struggle. He was a decent enough substitute for Jayne's muscle and far more pleasant to work with - he was obedient, didn't talk back, did the task with a smile. He was raised right, knew his place - it was easy to tell he was kept on a tight leash. A nice change of pace.

Wash skipped down into the cargo bay, his usual buoyant stride weighted down with concern until his eyes landed on Zoe. She stood at the edge of the ramp, listening so stoically as Mikas drew a map in the air with his finger and pointed out along the mountain's ridge. Her attention waned as she noticed her husband approaching from the periphery and with a dutiful nod, she excused herself from Mikas' company.

"Just checking in, Dear?" Zoe sighed, her full lips hinting at a smile. Ever since his encounter with Niska, Wash developed a pesky habit of making sure she was safe and whole after every run.

"I heard things got a little heated out there," he said under his breath.

"They always do."

"Just a little misunderstanding," Mikas interjected, suavely brushing his hair aside and extending for a handshake. "Mikas Ward- proprietor of these parts."

"Hoban Washburne - I pilot Serenity," Wash introduced himself stiffly, half-wondering why he suddenly felt the need to be so formal.

"A bona fide pilot, eh?" Mikas grinned as he threw his thumb over his shoulder. " Y'see Victor over there? He's got some mighty high ambitions...maybe you can talk him out of it."

The kid's ears perked as he overheard his name, his eyes glancing upwards with curiosity, though attempting not to eavesdrop so obviously. Mal was also astute to the exchange, wary of the outsider and the comfortable manner in which he approached the crew.

With a flick of his wrist, Mikas summoned Victor to his side, waiting impatiently like a master calling his dog. Setting down the last case on top of the pile, Victor bit his lip and looked to Mal as though to ask for permission. The captain granted his leave with a slight lift of his chin and trailed behind the boy's excitable steps with a casual saunter.

"Vickie wants to be a pilot, don't you boy?" Mikas said, pushing the kid into an introduction with a firm hand on his shoulder. Victor stumbled over his own feet, catching himself with a dopey grin.

"Is that so?" Wash attempted to smile as he shook the kid's clammy hand.

"Got accepted to a fast track program runnin' out of Londinum," Victor nodded, shrugging his shoulders with humble sigh. "They work ya hard but you get both a transport license and basic military training in 'bout eighteen months."

The corners of Wash's mouth dropped and he peered at the boy with skeptical twitch. "Wait- are you talking about the SAS Aviation Facility?"

"Special Alliance Support?" Mal piped in, furrowing his brow.

Victor gulped uneasily under the pressure of the dissecting stares, his response stalling into a meek nod that was unfitting for his body's stature. In the midst of the tension, he threw a panicked glance towards Mikas only to be ignored- his boss had become distracted by the slender figure of a mysterious girl snaking her way around the ship.

"Stop lookin' at him like he's a Purple Belly," Wash scolded his captain, slapping him playfully in the gut. "Those kind of credentials are like having a free pass. Just imagine...flight clearance almost anywhere you want it!"

Intrigued, but not entirely convinced, Mal cocked his head. "But you have to serve?"

Victor squared his shoulders as though to appear confident. "I'm opting out of the academy so it's just twelve weeks of active patrol -usually monitoring check-points 'tween sectors- and then twenty-four months on ready reserve."

Mal chewed on the information, squinting his eyes suspiciously and crossing his arms. Wash, on the other-hand, expressed a genuine camaraderie, if only to prattle on about the experiences of flight school that usually bored the rest of the crew.

"You choose a concentration?"

"Thinkin' 'bout avionic engineering. Like the idea of navigating with parametric interstellar sonar and electro-optics out in the black."

"I think this kid's after my own heart...don't tell my wife!" the pilot joked, meeting Zoe's eye-roll with a hearty laugh.

Flashing an uncomfortable smile, the light from Victor's eyes seemed to fade. "Don't matter anyhow. Momma said I can't go. Said we don't got the funds."

The words caught Mikas' attention, throwing him back into the conversation with a disgruntled shake of his head. "You don't worry 'bout no funds. Your Momma just don't want t' see her baby bird flyin' up over them mountains never to return."

Victor's cheeks turned flush with embarrassment.

"Well, uh, your goods are ready for transport," Mal changed the subject, turning the attention away from the kid and onto Mikas. "My mule ain't a part of the transaction, so I hope them caverns of yours ain't far."

"Not at all," Mikas replied. "If it's all right, I'll have Victor drive it out- give you and me a chance to further discuss my offer."

**oOo**

"_Hell, Clydesdale, I think you got promise. But if you want t' run with my crew, there're some things you best be keepin' in mind..." _

_Bing sat behind a massive wooden desk, balancing on the rickety hind legs of an old splint chair. He threw his feet up to recline, kicking aside a stack of leather-bound ledgers as he struck a match on the sole of his shoe and lit a hand rolled cigarette. Jayne stood there humbly, folding his hands properly (just how his momma taught him back when she used to drag him to church) and watched as the weedy old man sucked on his cigarette, holding it firm it in the corner of his mouth. _

"_One - My word is law. There ain't no debatin' it. I'll treat ya nice and fair just so long as you don't go crossin' me. And believe me, you start playin' games, I'll know 'bout it. Two - which goes hand 'n hand with number one - You don't take anything that's mine. I pay well and provide all you need. But you ain't entitled to nothin' and you remember that. Three - Don't give Coop a reason t' hate on you. He'll teach you everything you'll ever need t' know, but don't underestimate his patience. He's killed bigger men than you, tougher men than you, smarter men than you, that's for sure. Do what he says, watch what he does, follow his lead, and stay on his good side. If you can handle it, well, then maybe you might prove to be useful."_

**oOo**

River grimaced as her bare foot stepped from the smooth, cool metal ramp and onto the dry, pebbly ground. The new texture was welcoming- there was very little variance of surface characteristics on manufactured vessels- though the pinch and prick of tiny jagged stones and twigs was vastly unpleasant compared to the sensation of sandy dirt sifting between her toes.

She raised her eyes to the night sky, examining how the mountains enveloped them all. They stood so tall as though to try to pierce the atmosphere, surrounding everything like stone giants guarding the world beyond. Out in the black, everything was flat. Here was spledor. But no one else marveled in the wonder. Nor had they noticed she had "slipped away" (so they would call it.) It didn't require very much "slipping" - everyone's attentions were elsewhere. Doing a job. Working. Scheming. Watching. But never seeing.

Everything was behind her. The ship. The chatter. The captain and the pretty, golden-haired man. The colt. Then there was a rustling in the bushes. River's lips curled into a smile as she followed the sound, pulling aside a few branches and brambles.

"You've slipped away too."

The muzzle of sterling white alpaca poked through the leaves - lost, alone, so far from the herd. With careful fingers, River reached out slowly, but quickly withdrew as the animal let out a frenzied bray.

"Look what you found," a voice neared. "This one's been missin' since the week before last- tricky thing- weaseled through the weak spot in the gate. Come a long way, too."

Leaving the cargo packed mule a few paces behind, Victor approached with a carefree gait as he pushed his sleeves up his forearms and took a predatory stance towards the wailing beast. A vision of red shot through River's skull, her mind pounding, the surrounding world pulsing as she stared at Victor in horror.

"No, no, no..." River panicked, backing away and clawing at her temples.

"It's fine," he assured her with a comforting laugh. "You just have to know how to approach 'em, see?"

He raised a gentle hand to the creature and as he stroked along the soft wool of it's neck, it began to quiet. Enthralled by the calming motion, River cracked a smile- which in turn, drew a coy grin onto Victor's face. The red was gone. Pushed down, shoved away, distracted by his smile. His innocence. His eyes. Kind. Not judging. Didn't think she was crazy. Didn't know. Didn't care. Distracting.

A sudden gun blast echoed through the valley.

With a wheezing gasp, Victor clutched at the gaping hole in his chest, his hands quickly turning wet and red. His knees buckled beneath him, and like a discarded marionette, he collapsed abruptly to the ground.


	11. Chapter 11

**11**

_Marjory chased after Vera in a frenzy, the young seamstress watching the hem of her finest creation trailing through the dirt. It was a gorgeous garment, fitting snug against Vera's body, made perfectly for her patron and guaranteed to impress. The pearlescent lilac fabric shimmered in the sunlight, giving Vera an ethereal glow. Showcasing the town's craft, the milky skin of her torso served as a backdrop for the dress' intricately knit bodice made from the softest yarns and most vibrant dyes. It was beautiful and delicate, but that didn't stop Vera from dashing into the dusty town streets. _

_Coop handed Jayne a bottle filled with amber liquid, and throwing his rifle over his shoulder Jayne leaned his back against a fence post and took a swig. The sun was high in the sky and the townsfolk were busy hustling around the ranch, too occupied with their workload to notice much of anything else. Jayne gulped down another mouthful of whiskey. He used to be just like them, but he smiled at the realization that he was finally free._

_It was different being a part of Bing's crew. People looked at him differently, if they looked at him at all. He liked the way they turned their heads away when he passed, but still stared at him through the corners of their eyes. There was a certain power that came from taking a man's life, and certain respectability when it was being done for money. Under Coop's tutelage, he learned the trade- when to take a shot, where it'll hurt the most, who to bluff and who was doing the bluffing. And he seemed to have a knack for it. _

"_And could you believe it...tried to bring his mama into it!" Jayne cackled, offering the bottle back to Coop. _

_The hard man climbed atop the fence and sat, accepting the drink and shoving it to his cracked lips. "Cowards like that will blame anyone t' get out of payin' their dues."_

"_He sure paid, all right. Should've kept me a souvenir." _

"_Y'know, we started callin' Benjien the tooth fairy on account that he saves some teeth from every man he does in. Fills old brass casings of them huge .808 knuckle drags he likes to shoot and keeps 'em lined on his shelf like shiny trophies. Seven teeth to a jacket."_

_"I ain't ever heard y'all call him that."_

_"Don't say it to his face, lest you want them pretty pearly whites stuffed in a shell."_

_"Is that what it takes to get rid of a nickname?" Jayne remarked with a snort._

_"You ain't ever gonna shake Clydesdale. At least that's more of a man's name," Coop replied. "B'sides, the only collections worth having are weapons. The rest are useless sentimental garbage. Teeth, ears, jewelry, pebbles, or little glass figurines ain't gonna stop someone from slittin' your throat. But if you defeat a man and take his weapon, that sure as hell makes a statement to next piece of _mi tian gong_ that finds himself wantin' a fight."_

_Jayne nodded, thankful for the lesson, and as he rested his elbows casually back against the fence, he squinted through the flare of the bright sun to find himself facing a glowing figure floating in his direction. Blinking his eyes, he raised his hand to his brow to block the glare. To his surprise, it was Vera running towards him, her long locks of hair unbridled and whipping through the wind. She exuded an unfamiliar femininity, and as she neared, his jaw unhinged, his palms grew sweaty, and his chest swelled._

_She greeted the men with a coy smile, brushing her hair out of her face and throwing her hands on her hips. Marjory finally caught up, out of breath and about to give Vera hell, but upon noticing Coop and Jayne, the curly-haired girl lowered her eyes and sunk into silence._

_"Where'd you get that fancy dress, Girl?" Coop laughed._

_"Marjory made it. Daddy said I got t' wear somethin' fine for when they send someone from the Companion's Guild to see me. How do I look?" she asked with a playful curtsy._

_"Like a little angel," Jayne said bashfully, trying his best not to stare._

_Watching Vera's face light up, Coop finished the bottle of whiskey in one gulp and threw it at her feet. "Guess there's only so much you can do to dress up trash."_

_"Why you always got t' be so cruel?" Vera spat, clenching her fists._

_"Not cruel, just honest," taunted Coop. "You think just 'cos your daddy knows somebody who knows somebody that they'll be acceptin' you, turnin' you into some sort of princess? Ain't gonna happen, sweetheart- they're just humorin' the lot of you to keep business civil."_

_"It ain't that! Miss Caroline says I got potential!"_

_"Quite a teacher you got there, helpin' you real well with that proper speakin'," he mocked her. "I seen them companion training houses and they start 'em younger than you, and believe me,_ bao bei, _they got twelve year olds that are built better. Sure, your momma had a nice set of curves and legs that went on for miles, but as far as I can see, you got your daddy's genes and no fancy dress will help that sort of ugly."_

_Vera's cheeks grew flush and tears formed in her eyes, but she kept a stiff lip. Coop's face twisted into a smug grin, and pulling a tin from his pocket, he indifferently shoved a pinch of chewing tobacco into his mouth._

_Jayne furrowed his brow and swallowed hard, turning to Coop with a sneer. "Tell her you didn't mean that."_

_Bearing his blackened teeth, Coop hopped down from the fence and forced his barrel-like body into Jayne's space. "What'd you say, Boy?"_

_With his shoulders squared, Jayne looked down at the brute's mangled face. "I said you should apologize."_

_Suddenly, Coop pulled his gun from his holster, flinging his hand through the air and forcefully whipping Jayne in the face with the barrel. Jayne fell dazed onto his back as blood poured from a deep gash on his cheek. Vera leapt onto Coop from behind, looping her arms around his neck, but he easily shook her loose and shoved her into the dirt. Marjory grabbed on to Vera's arm, urging her away as Coop kicked Jayne square in the stomach and aimed his revolver. Jayne's eyes grew wide, finding himself looking down the barrel of Coop's gun. _

"_One last lesson for ya, Clydesdale- fightin' for the honor of some whore you're oglin' gets you nowhere but dead in a ditch."_

"Zao gao_! What is going on?" Mikas screamed, rushing up on the commotion._

_Coop raised a lazy eyelid. "Boy gave me lip."_

_"Put it away, Coop. Bing ain't gonna be happy that you done in his workhorse without his permission."_

_The hard, little man stuffed his gun begrudgingly back into its holster. "'Till I get permission then," he growled, spitting a glob of tobacco stained phlegm onto Jayne's face._

_Watching Coop stomp away, Mikas pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, perching down on his heels and handing it to Jayne. Still shaken, Jayne wiped his face and grimaced. Vera scrambled to his side, taking the handkerchief from his trembling fingers and tenderly placing it on the bloody, open wound._

_"Get on out of here- you'll muss up your dress," Mikas shooed her away. "I'll see that he gets stitched up."_

**oOo**

The gun blast from the valley perked Vera's attention. Distracted, she pushed up forcefully on Jayne's chest and he reluctantly rolled over with an unsatisfied groan.

"C'mon now- it ain't nothin'," he said hazily, advancing towards her again. "Probably one of them kingsnakes diggin' itself out of the ridge just gone and startled someone."

"Shhh!"

Vera's eyes grew wide as she listened. There was a murmured hollering, and then another round fired, and another, and another. "That ain't no snake…"

Shoving him aside, she jumped down from his bed, quickly gathering up her clothes. Watching her cover up those fine curves, the careless pleasure faded from Jayne's face. Trading one vice for another, he pulled himself to his feet, adjusted his belt, and consulted his weapon collection. His choices were limited- his shoulder was too tender to withstand the recoil of a long gun, and so he decided on a steady six-shooter, a large barreled pistol that he knew was reliable in a fire-fight, and a few grenades for good measure.

He wormed his injured arm into a t-shirt and through the sleeve of his large, drab jacket, never taking his eyes off of Vera as her fingers nimbly buttoned up her blouse. Slinging her rifle over her shoulder, she rushed to the door, only to run into the thick of Jayne's arm barring the exit. She bounced back, catching herself on her heels as Jayne protectively blocked her path and quietly peered out into the hall first. With no immediate trouble in sight, he signaled her to follow, holding his gun ready as he cautiously trod through the ship. The commotion grew louder, crisper, more dire as they neared the cargo bay and they threw their backs against the wall at the approaching sound of rapid footsteps.

Wash turned the corner in a frenzy, nearly jumping out of his skin at the unexpected sight of Jayne ready to pounce. Exhaling in relief and knowing fair well that he was about to take out a member of his own crew, Jayne playfully patted Wash on the shoulder to ease him. "What in the 'verse is goin' on?"

"I don't know. Some sort of ambush," the pilot replied with urgency. "Zoe is holdin' em off at the door. Mal's out there somewhere. I'm hoping I can get a view up on the bridge to see where they're coming from."

"They're coming from the hills," Vera growled. "_He chu-sheng za-jiao de zang-huo! _If they get a hold of them explosives…"

Jayne's expression twisted into a snarl. "I don't know 'bout you, but I ain't too thrilled by the idea of bein' blown to bits in this ruttin' crag."

"Stay close to the ship," advised Wash, backing away. "If it gets as bad as she's implying it might get, I'm taking the first opportunity I can to pull us out of here."

Jayne replied with forceful nod as they parted. Vera kept on his heels, holding her rifle snug against her chest as he lead her along the gantry and down into the cargo bay. A crisp breeze blew through the open door, giving the outdoors an inviting illusion that was soon shattered by the jarring bang of haphazard gunshots echoing in the night. Zoe stood guarding the entry with a gun held firmly in each hand while Book flanked the other side of the door, the weapon in his arms a sharp contrast from his attire. But more out of place than the preacher was the finely dressed doctor clamoring to get outside.

"You're not stepping a foot off of this boat," Zoe said forcefully, blocking the doctor's path.

Simon's shoulders tensed as his eyes skirted around. "I can't find River anywhere. She's not on the ship. I have to find her."

"If she's out there, the Captain will see she gets back safe and sound," Book assured him.

"She's my responsibility, not the Captain's!" pleaded Simon, wringing his hands frantically.

Zoe sighed, unmoving. "And it's my responsibility is to hold our ground until everyone is safe inside."

A barrage of bullets ricocheted across the door-frame, sending Simon crouching with his head between his knees. Zoe stepped around the corner quickly, sending shots back towards the enemy.

"Yeah, Doc. You best be playin' it safe," Jayne laughed as he approached, meeting the young doctor's sneer with a condescending snort.

"I think the same goes for you," Book turned to Jayne, raising his brow. "It was only earlier this evening that the fine doctor here was treating your wounds. You're in no condition to be out there."

"Ah, I'm fine. I ain't gonna let a scratch keep me out of a scuffle."

"Bad enough we got Mal out in this mess," Zoe scowled, bracing herself as more shots pinged against the ship's metal exterior. "Worst part is we can't even tell where they're positioned."

Vera listened into the night, kneeling as she pulled a handful of large brass cartridges from her pocket and loaded them quickly into her rifle's magazine. "Sounds like they got a man up on Skimwater Cliff...that's less than a hundred yards away. If I can get some height out of the valley, I can take him down."

Jayne squinted his eyes, peering out into the darkness. "There's a ridge at 2 o'clock. Might be high enough for ya. If you think you can make it, I'll cover you.

Vera nodded with assurance, locking the magazine in place with a sharp click. "I'm ready to dance...are you?"

Running his fingers through his beard, a lascivious grin crept onto Jayne's face. "With you darlin', I'm always ready."

"Just go," Zoe groaned, nauseated by the promiscuous glint in his eye.

Taking a deep breath, Vera leapt through the door, landing in the dust with a graceful tumble. Jayne followed with a smile and the pair sprinted out into the chaos, ducking and dodging and meeting fire with fire.

"So you're just going to let him out there?" Simon shook his head, hearing Jayne whooping in the distance. "What happened to your responsibility?"

Zoe's eyes slid towards Simon's disapproving glare. "I make it a point not to be responsible for anything Jayne does."

**oOo**

The mule was left unattended, but the heavy cases strapped on top remained untouched. Mal leaned his back against the large stump of a fallen tree, periodically raising his revolver and shooting fiercely at anyone attempting to get near the cargo. Mikas had squeezed himself into a crevice along the stony landscape, firing unseen and keeping the slew of rogue mercenaries at bay.

Mal figured there were only about seven of them - two in the hills, four in motion within the valley, and one down and out with a bullet lodged in his gut - but the ones still standing had a plan and sure as hell were prepared. Wiping sweat from his brow, Mal found himself dropping his last six rounds into his gun's chamber.

To his surprise, Jayne dove down beside him and slid in the dirt, crouching behind the stump and cramping the little space Mal had to keep covered.

"Fancy seein' you here," Mal raised his brow, somewhat relieved.

"I usually like my fightin' before gettin' sexed, but I'll take what I can get."

"What do we got out there?"

"Hard t' say. Can't see much. At least ten of 'em…"

A blast from the ridge whizzed across the valley followed by a dense thud of a body falling from the neighboring cliff.

"...At least nine of 'em," Jayne corrected himself. "Good news is that their shots are lazy. They're just out here causin' a ruckus. We got Vera up there watchin' our backs...I say we take the moment and hightail it."

"With the additional cover, we're gonna hop the mule and drive it on in to Serenity for safe keeping."

"This gorram job is endless," Jayne groaned.

"On three. One...two..."

Suddenly, a small aircraft vessel whizzed through the sky, halting and hovering over the mule. It had four quick rotors and danced in the air, lowering a mechanical claw down from its belly. Jayne fired a few shots, but its stiff metal casing repelled every bullet.

"What the hell is that?"Jayne growled, quickly reloading his gun.

Mal stared at the piece of technology, his eye twitching as he begged his mind for a brilliant plan. "Adrone...must be remotely piloted…but ain't never seen one that fast before."

"Can't be that fast..." grunted Jayne as he reached down and pulled a grenade from his belt.

"_Ta ma de!" _Mal shouted, swatting the grenade from the mercenary's hands before he could pull the pin. "That's a pile of explosives out there! You'll do us all in!"

Jayne gritted his teeth, but before he could argue, the drone spit a tin canister in their direction and in a matter of seconds, the area was shielded by, thick, bellowing smoke. Mal squinted, trying to see through the screen as Jayne haphazardly fired towards the sound heavy footsteps surrounding the cargo. The movements were quick and calculated, and Mal kept a wary eye on Jayne and his grenade. As the smoke began to clear, they watched the drone fly up into the mountains, hoisting the heavy cases along with it and leaving nothing behind but the empty mule.

The valley was blanketed by an eerie calm. Mikas swatted though the remaining smoke in an attempt to clear the air as he stepped back out into the open. He watched Jayne and Mal flocking around the mule, circling it cautiously and inspecting it for damage. The cargo was gone and the loss stung Mikas' pride as much as his wallet. Cursing under his breath, he pulled a clean handkerchief from his waistcoat pocket and as he wiped gunpowder residue from his fingers, the sound of a sharp cackle stopped him in his stride. Hunched in the dirt, a grimy man sat with an arm draped over a bolder and a hand cupped over the large, bloody bullet hole in his stomach. Despite his sorry shape, he smiled through blackened teeth and his body shook with a wheezing laughter.

"What're y'all schemin'?" Mikas barked, meeting the wounded man's eyes with a scowl.

"Y' like that? We got an investor. Real interested in our work. Real interested in what you're runnin' here."

"_Jian ta de gui! _No one's taken my town!"

"Shouldn't have cheated us then, Boss."

The wounded man's smile ran ear to ear. Mikas furrowed his brow in anger and swiftly pulled his gun from his side, sending a bullet burrowing between the man's laughing eyes. Mal and Jayne raised their heads cautiously at the sound, but Mikas waved towards them, tucking his pistol back in its holster.

"Nothin' to worry 'bout," he called out to put them at ease. "Found one still alive- tried to draw on me!"

With an understanding nod, Jayne and Mal put their attention back on the mule, starting it and taking solace in the small victory that the thing still worked.

**oOo**

Vera shuffled down the ridge, throwing her gun in the sling over her shoulder. The night was peaceful again and in the light of the ship, she could see the captain, her brother, and Jayne regrouping. She tucked a loose hair behind her ear, and paused. A soft murmuring came from the bushes- quick and frantic - "...ramifications are...the compromise of the negative pressure...can't equalize with the atmosphere...drowning on land..."

Cautiously, Vera peered through the foliage and into the clearing. There was a girl, holding her legs, rocking in the dirt and muttering nonsense - and beside her, a body doubled over on the ground.

Victor.

A sharp pang hit Vera's gut and she ran to the boy's side, shoving River away and turning Victor onto his back. His chest was soaked red with blood, his face had turned blue, and he convulsed in pain, gasping desperately for air. With a curdling wail, Vera scooped him into her arms, holding his head and trying to get his eyes to focus. "No, baby, no, no...look at me…look at me! Help! Someone! Help!"

A herd of footsteps clamored from behind in a wave of confusion. Mikas fell to his knees next to his sister, hovering over the boy and assessing his injury. Mal turned to Jayne with a silent command, sending him riding back to the ship on the mule and returning with Simon and the stretcher. Vera raised her head as Simon approached and letting the boy out of her trembling arms, Mikas and Mal carefully moved Victor onto the stretcher.

"Drowning!" River cried, watching her brother examine the boy.

"His lung has been punctured," Simon spoke flatly, quickly rifling through his medical bag and pulling out a large needle. "I need to release the air trapped in his chest...stand back."

Jayne held Vera back by her shoulders, feeling her tense as Simon worked meticulously, attaching a small valve onto the needle and then plunging it into Victor's chest. There was a gush of air and a gasp as Victor inhaled a breath, but soon after his eyes rolled to the back of his head and his body went limp.

"Let go of me! Let go!" Vera howled, squirming to break free from Jayne's grip.

Jayne held her tighter, crossing his arms across her chest and whispering into her ear. "Calm yourself. Ain't no use gettin' all hysterical-like. Let the doc do his job."

"He needs surgery and he needs it now," Simon said, putting pressure on the chest wound. "I can stabilize him back on the ship, but I need supplies and trained hands to assist with that kind of procedure."

"We got a good physician back on the homestead," Mikas piped in. "He'll get you anything you need."

Mal grimaced, watching Simon stick a thin plastic tube down Victor's throat, becoming morbidly mesmerized by a small contraption -inflating and then deflating- that was keeping the kid breathing. "How close can we land to town?" he asked, turning towards Mikas.

"Half-mile or so- I'll have my doc meet us ready to board."

"Go on ahead- tell Zoe you need to send an emergency wave," the captain instructed, sending Mikas off in a swift sprint back towards Serenity.

Jayne released Vera from his hold, and throwing her an assuring nod, he helped Mal hoist the stretcher up onto the mule.

"Simon?" Mal called, offering the doctor his seat.

"Go on ahead. Take him to the infirmary," Simon replied, packing up his medical kit. "I'll only be a moment…I just need to get River."

"Well, hurry up and leave that unhinged sister of yours if you gotta!" Jayne barked, keeping the unconscious boy steady as they drove away.

Vera's breath quivered and she grabbed Simon's wrist, forcing him to stop and look into her tearful eyes. "Please, please save him. He's my son...he's all I got."

"I'll do my best," Simon said softly placing his hand gently on top of hers.

To his surprise, his touch made her recoil, and as she put on a stiff stone facade, she tipped her chin and turned to catch up with the others. Her coldness made him shudder, and collecting his composure, he anxiously scanned his surroundings.

"River, quickly!" Simon called for his sister, who had disappeared during the excitement. "There's no time for games!"

"Everyone is playing games. Hiding. Telling lies. Living untruths," River replied, sneaking up on her brother from behind. "For want of a nail the shoe was lost. For want of a shoe the horse was lost. For want of a horse the rider was lost...So sad. I like the little Jayne better than the big one."


	12. Chapter 12

**12**

"I don't have to be no 'reader' to get that. I can put two and two together," Mal said, crossing his arms.

"Can he?" Simon gestured, his eyes sliding from the captain and through the glass window into the infirmary.

Jayne stood solemnly next to Vera, watching her try to keep all of her emotion bottled up as she looked over her son laid out on the examination chair. Victor was deathly still. The rise and fall of his chest was hardly noticeable, and if it weren't for the persistent beeping of some machine, Jayne would've sworn the kid was dead. He averted his eyes - all the wires and tubes stuffed into that unmoving body made him feel restless. Watching the kid sleep wasn't going to wake him up any faster -if at all- but that didn't seem to matter to Vera, who had let a rogue tear slip down her cheek.

Mal and Simon peered though the window, almost in awe as Jayne reluctantly raised his arm and stiffly wrapped it around Vera's shoulders. The gesture -as awkward as it was- was too much for the stoic little woman to bear, and she finally broke down, burrowing her face into Jayne's chest to muffle her cries.

"You wanna broach the subject with him?" Mal asked wryly.

Simon went pale at the thought. "You know, it's really none of my business."

"Wise decision," Mal smirked. "Though I have to admit, if that math is addin' up right, Jayne is bein' mighty big about it. Would've thought he'd be runnin' right about now."

Patting Vera on the back, Jayne slipped out of her sobbing clutch, leaving her to wipe her eyes on her sleeve as he stepped from the room. Closing the infirmary door behind him, he grimaced down at the tear-soaked wet patches on his shirt.

"So when are we gettin' off this gorram rock?"

Mal raised his brow and shifted his eyes toward Simon to meet the doctor's gaping expression.

Catching the silent exchange, Jayne sneered. "What you all lookin' at me like that for? We didn't sign up for none of this."

Mal paused, pursing his lips as he thought. "He's right..."

"You can't be serious," Simon gasped, unable to comprehend the captain's sudden apathy.

"We came to make a trade. Unfortunately, that little show down interrupted the transaction before I could get my hands on our share. But we held up our end of the deal...sure as hell gonna get paid for it and there's nothing more to it than that."

"Damn straight!" cheered Jayne, happy to hear Mal was taking his side for once.

"But what about..." Simon trailed, looking off towards Victor's comatose body.

Mal bit his cheek. "You said the kid will be stable enough to move in the morning, right?"

"_Leng xue za zhong! _If he even makes it through the night!" Simon objected with outrage.

"Let's be optimistic, Doctor...surly don't suit you. We'll get our affairs in order, fuel up, then break atmo before the day's end."

Jayne tipped his chin with a quick glance towards the infirmary, catching himself abruptly and turning away with a heavy plod down the hall. "Sounds like good enough a plan to me. The sooner we're back in the black, the better."

**oOo**

_Mikas aimed his shotgun into the air, pulling the trigger steadily at the pause between breaths. The bang echoed through the mountains and the old spaniel sniffing around his heels, sped off through the trees, slipping on its hind legs as it shuffled up the leaf-ridden ridge. _

"_I think you got it!" Jayne called to him, lowering his gun and looking off into the distance. _

"_Well, don't just stand there! Hurry up and go on after it!" Vera prodded her brother excitedly. "That dumb mutt is likely to run off a cliff before retrievin' the damn thing!"_

_Throwing his gun over his shoulder, Mikas hustled after the dog, treading backwards a few paces as he looked at his sister smugly. "Told you I'd get the first quail of the season!"_

"_You ain't got it yet!" she teased, watching him disappear through the foliage. _

_Jayne pulled his shotgun sling over his head and leaned the firearm snugly in course grooves of a crooked, old tree. With anxious fingers, he rummaged through his hunting satchel, curling his lip with dismay as he counted his shells. "Grabbed the wrong box...only got four shot left...rest are double-aughts. Might have to go for some bigger game…wait...nah, a ratshot won't do me no good..."_

_Vera set her gun down next to his, paying little attention to his grumbling as she watched him attempt to dig deeper into his canvas bag. Studying his face, she noticed that the purple bruises under his eye had started to fade and stitches on his cheek had scabbed over into a tight red arc. Despite his best efforts not to scratch at it, his hand often found it's way up to his face, brushing his knuckle against the mark. _

"_Don't pick at it. It'll scar."_

"_Doc said it's gonna leave a scar anyway," he muttered, still occupied by the ammunition rattling around in the satchel. _

"_Well, you want it to heal up right, don't ya?" she scolded him, prying his fingers away from the wound. _

_Meeting her eyes, he felt her hand linger on his. Nervously, she pulled away, biting her lip and quickly dropping her gaze to the ground. "I don't think I ever thanked you for stickin' up for me. No one's ever done anything like that before..."_

_Jayne raised his brow, befuddled by the tunneling anticipation between them as Vera lifted her eyes to his again and reached up on her tippy-toes to place a sweet, longing kiss on his lips. His body tensed as a flush of conflicting emotion muddled together in his head, in his stomach, in his veins- leaving him uneasy and wooden. And as they parted, Vera's smile faded with the sobering sting of rejection. He willed himself to speak, but instead just wiped his mouth on the back of his hand as she turned, defeated, with a quivering breath. _

"_You ain't ugly," he finally managed to stammer from behind, catching a glimpse of the glower from over her shoulder. "What Coop said...he said you were ugly. You ain't. Far from it."_

_Slowly, her expression warmed._

"_Just, I know women get sore 'bout those things..."_

_Twisting her lips into a coy smirk, she threw her hands on her hips. "Well, ain't you just the perfect gentleman..."_

"_Not so sure about that," he said, pulling her close with a rough jerk of her arm, holding her tight against his chest as he craned his neck down to finally reciprocate her kiss. Running his hand through her hair, he raised her up in his arms as she pecked at his face lustfully with her soft, honeyed lips. Their mouths wet, he gnawed with a great thirst, gasping for air with warm, short breaths. _

_The approaching bark of the dog startled them and Vera hopped down in panic, distancing herself from Jayne, and quickly adjusting her dress so as not to look in disarray- though her cheeks were still flushed and her hair slightly mussed. Mikas appeared through the thick of trees, he raising his kill in the air and showing off the quail with a confident smile. _

"_What do you say t' that?" Mikas gloated, completely oblivious to the bashful restraint settling in the air._

"_You sure bagged that bird," Vera replied, sending Jayne a sultry wink as she scooped her shotgun back into her arms and turned her back as though nothing had happened between them. But Jayne could still taste her on his lips and feel her in his loins as he watched her run her hands along the forend of her weapon. She was a challenge- a siren fitted with a long gun and paddock boots- and he'd never encountered anyone who could make him feel so strong, yet so small all at once. _

"_Clydesdale, you comin'?"_

_Mikas' voice broke Jayne's stare and he realized they had marched a good twenty paces ahead of him, leaving him lumbering alone in the clearing._

"_Uh...yeah," he stumbled, urging them on as he grabbed his gun from against the tree and discreetly slid his satchel forward to hang covertly down his front._


	13. Chapter 13

**13**

Shepherd Book ran his fingers along the weathered pages of his Bible and then tucked it snuggly beneath his arm. Folding his hands behind his back, he wove down the halls, keeping his pace slow and composed to be considerate of the late hour. He knew how footsteps could echo and amplify through _Serenity_- there were many-a-night where he lie awake in his bunk listening to the captain pace restlessly along the galley. But it wasn't the captain so restlessly stomping around the kitchen this time, and quietly avoiding the dining room, Book resolved that he would beard that lion later.

Holding himself dutifully, he approached the infirmary. The grieving mother sat at her son's side, her weary hands interlacing with the boy's limp fingers, holding him as though he would float away if she eased her grasp. Book was bewildered by her strange tenderness- only mere hours before he watched Vera tumble fearlessly into gunfire, but now it was as if her ferociousness had petered into ash and she was nothing more than a husk hollowed by despair. Stepping through the doorway, he cleared his throat to make his presence known and she slowly raised her head to greet the shepherd with tired, wet eyes.

"The captain wanted me to let you know that there's a spare room for the night if it would make you more comfortable," he kindly offered.

"The captain does well hidin' his paranoia with hospitality," she replied with a heated flicker. "I know y'all ain't so thrilled with me bein' here in the middle of the night, but I don't give a good gorram- I'm stayin' with my boy."

"Of course," Book bowed his head as the hint of a smile curled the corners of his mouth, happy to see the fire inside her had not been completely extinguished. Moving closer, his expression grew grave once again as he looked down at Victor. "If I may..."

Vera did not respond, but only watched as he pulled the Bible from under his arm.

"Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the..."

"No offense, Shepherd, but I ain't so keen on a sermon right now," she sharply interrupted. "Not that I don't appreciate the sentiment, but the only time a preacher's ever come 'round was first when my momma died and then when my daddy died."

"I apologize. It wasn't my intention to imply..." he trailed off, swallowing his words and beginning anew. "I just thought I'd offer my prayer."

The snarl on Vera's face fell into flat dismay. "Suppose prayer is all I got, though I ain't so good at it."

"As long as the intention is there, your prayers will be heard."

"I'd sure like to believe that," she scoffed. "I don't got the best track record with the Lord. But my boy...well, he don't deserve this...he shouldn't have been mixed up in this _ta ma de kùnjìng_...if I were a better mother..."

"You can't blame yourself for the treachery of others," Book assured her, taking a seat by her side.

"I'm suppose t' protect him."

"Something tells me that he's not the type that wants protecting."

Vera shook her head with an exasperated snort. "Ain't that the truth. I try, but he's always been a handful...got a genuine curiosity but no common sense to back it up. He ain't dumb, but he's got this naive notion that folk ain't the terrible sods that they are."

"Is it not admirable for one to see inherent good in our fellow man?"

"Admirable, sure. But still ain't so smart. He don't realize that the odds have been stacked against him for his whole life."

"I think I read somewhere once, 'what matters most is how you walk through the fire.'"

"Someone said that to me before..." she sighed pensively. "...on the day Victor was born. Everyone else was tellin' me I should give him up. I just...couldn't. He was all I had left of his daddy. And after all these years of believin' he was dead, I...don't know...I...I'm sorry, Preacher. I can't get my head straight. I'm just talkin'- don't even know what I'm sayin'-don't usually do that."

"It's all right, I'm here to listen."

"Actually, that prayer don't seem so bad right about now."

Book nodded with a gentle smile and opened the Bible. To his surprise, Vera reached out and took his hand, closing her eyes as he began to read.

**oOo**

_Freshly plucked blueberries scattered across the ground as Jayne pushed Vera behind the old barn, pinning her back against wall and making her drop the bushel she carried in her arms. At first she tried to squirm away, but her fight grew lazy as he shifted his body against hers and kissed along her neck. _

"_What if someone sees?" she feigned resistance, running her fingers through his hair. _

"_Ain't no one gonna see,"he growled into her ear as he rubbed his cheek against hers. "Ain't been caught yet."_

"'_Cos we've been careful. This ain't careful! What if Daddy finds out?"_

_Jayne grunted, pressing his lips to hers so she could no longer speak. Surrendering, she threw her arms over his neck and breathed deep. He held her firmly by the waist, and feeling her chest heave, he slowly slipped his hand down to her thigh. Without breaking their kiss, she quickly snatched his wandering hand and placed it back above her hip. He rolled his eyes within his head, listening to her moan as she raised her leg and coiled it around him. Once again, he moved his hand down, letting it rest for a moment before he coolly wormed his way up her skirt. Pulling away, Vera swatted his hand out from under her dress. _

"_I told you before, I'm not that kind of girl," she said flashing a coy grin. _

"_I know," he smiled suggestively. "Just thought you'd want to get some practice whorin', that's all."_

_Her expression suddenly grew cold. "I'm not a whore."_

"_Ah, c'mon. I didn't mean it that way," Jayne groaned, advancing towards her again._

"_No, you most certainly did," she shoved him back with all of her might. "Is that all I am to you? Just a whore-in-training?"_

_Jayne grew confused. She was the one wanting to be a companion. He narrowed his eyes as he searched for a response. He had been with whores before- you didn't kiss whores on the mouth or smell their hair. You didn't hold their hands and watch the sun set through the trees or tuck your shirt in before you'd see them. With whores, you didn't care if their father found out and you didn't hike miles up mountains to be alone with them just to feel like there was no one else in the 'verse. All of this was obvious to Jayne, and he didn't understand how Vera couldn't see it. He didn't know how to answer such a stupid question. _

"_T' Hell with you," she huffed at his silent stare, breaking free of him and stomping away. "Don't come 'round me no more! I mean it!"_

"_Fine! You ain't worth the trouble!" he hollered after her, feeling a twang in the pit of his stomach. Wiping the spittle from the corners of his mouth, he wound his foot back and kicked the overturned basket of blueberries, sending a spray of fruit and bits of wicker violently through the dirt. _

_Jayne turned the corner, curbing his rage, and he caught a glimpse of Coop sitting out on the fence in the distance. He wondered if Coop had seen anything, if he had heard their shouting, if it even mattered anymore. For a second, he wondered if he could get back in good again with the crew. You didn't cross killers and ruin a promising career for a whore. Clenching his fist, he threw his arm forward and pounded heavily against the barn. A sharp pain ran down his wrist and blood trickled from his knuckles. Blood was always better than tears. _

**oOo**

Book wandered into the kitchen, half-afraid of what he might find. There were a few metal pots strewn recklessly along floor, a drawer of utensils had been overturned and scattered across the counter, and an oozing tin can lie savagely gutted open, surrounded by a pool of its syrupy contents.

"I think the can opener is in the other drawer..." Book grimaced.

Jayne sat at the table with his back arched, rhythmically sharpening a large hunting knife. "Did I wake you or somethin'?"

"No. The captain asked me to see to our guests down in the infirmary," he replied, watching for a response. Instead, Jayne just kept about his chore as though the subject didn't pertain to him at all. "She's pretty torn up, you know..."

A strange sadness collected in Book's heart as the mercenary didn't bother to flinch. In fact, Jayne's only reply was the harsh zip of grinding metal as he ran his knife along the coarse stone. Sitting down at the table, the shepherd bit his tongue, deciding to prod further. "I'm sure she could use some company..."

"Then why don't you go on and give her some," Jayne growled.

"I'm sure she would prefer yours."

"Can't you see I'm busy?"

"I know it's none of my business, but…"

"You're right, it ain't!" Jayne roared, flinging the sharpening stone across the table.

Overcoming his apprehension, Book folded his hands in front of him and kept his position firm. He refused to see Jayne as a loose cannon, convincing himself (perhaps unwisely) that the large man would not do him any harm. He preferred to think of Jayne as an exposed nerve, sensitive to the topic at hand but still consolable.

"That girl down there..."

"You ever been with a woman, Preacher?" Jayne snapped, veering the shepherd off course.

"Well...I didn't always live in the abbey."

"I promise you ain't never been with a woman like that one. She takes it like you're killing her- like your pecker's a knife and she wants to die," he said, running his tongue along his teeth and flashing a sleazy smile as he threw his blade into the air with a thrusting motion.

Gritting his jaw, Book stared forcefully into Jayne's eyes. "Son, you're embarrassing yourself more than you're embarrassing me. Go ahead and tell your crude jokes if it helps you save face, but I've heard enough lonely, drunken confessions to know that you're running from something most men in your position can only long for."

Jayne swallowed hard, taken aback by the shepherd's commanding might. Letting his mouth hang open, he raised his brow, willing his brain to come up with a witty retort, only to be left with a stammering, "Uhh..."

"The rest of them might not think you have the moral character, but I have faith that you're capable of doing the right thing," Book insisted, standing to take his leave. "And clean up this mess you made. Just because you're in a quandary doesn't mean the rest of us have to live in filth."

Jayne shrunk in his seat, lifting his eyes with a humble glance. "G'night, Shepherd."

"You too, Jayne. Sleep tight."


End file.
